


What Draco Wants...

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco can't admit what he wants, Forced Bonding, Harry figures it out anyway, M/M, Mostly Draco's POV, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9871652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: During a mission to rescue Draco from kidnappers, Harry is bonded to Draco so that Harry has no choice but to do whatever Draco wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love bond stories almost as much as I love Eighth Year fics, but I tend to be very big on consent, so I have mostly avoided writing bond fics unless consent was more or less clear. This is probably the closest I can come to an actual forced bond unless I let my inner dark side loose to go on a rampage - which could be fun...

Lucius' POV

I looked at my son and for possibly the first time, saw a man. In my heart and mind, he would always be my boy. My baby. My precious Heir – yes – but more importantly, one of two people I would do anything for.

If he needed me to kill someone – straight up murder a person in public so that he could be rid of a nuisance and not go to Azkaban for it – I would. Of course, I'd probably try to do it without getting caught first, but I'd still do it for him. No questions asked.

And so, now that I was truly looking at him, I realized that the same could be said of him. He would do almost anything for me. True, he protested. He balked. He tried to talk me around to his point of view, but if I said the words: “You will do it, Draco, and that's final.” He stopped arguing, nodded his head, and then did it.

Why did it take me so long to realize two very important facts? First fact: his whole life, I've been doing and telling him to do things that would give him the world and make him happy, and second fact: he's not all that happy.

Oh sure, he seems content enough. Now that he was no longer under so much pressure to win a war on behalf of a mad man, he was almost relaxed – most of the time. When we told him that we had decided on a bride for him, he made a half-hearted attempt to ask us to wait a few more years, but then gave in and cooperated with all the planning so far.

The wedding date had finally been set and an announcement was ready to be printed in the Prophet tomorrow morning. In the meantime, here we sat, drinking the finest brandy to celebrate, and I couldn't help but wonder... If I truly loved my son so much that I would kill for him, then why had I never once asked him what would make him happy?

The moment I thought that, I realized that even if I asked, his desire to make me happy in return would prevent him from answering honestly, so I surreptitiously added a single drop of a highly illegal potion to the shot I poured for him. I handed the ounce of liquid over to him and watched him drink it even as I downed the shot I'd poured for myself. The potion was considered a form of mental rape because it allowed the giver to ask the taker just one question that the taker would not only have to answer honestly, but would then promptly forget the whole thing.

With a sigh, I decided not to waste the opportunity I had so terribly created. “Draco, what exactly will make you happy?”

I could see the potion go to work, making him go slightly blank for one moment as if he was trying to block or evade the question, only he couldn't. His mouth opened and out poured the answer that I hoped and prayed would be the key to giving my son everything he ever wanted. As soon as possible because Malfoys should never have to wait for anything.

“Marrying Harry Potter.”

I gaped in shock. I have to admit that of all the things in the universe – both magical and muggle – that I thought might come out of his mouth, that was possibly _the last_ thing I expected. I could see the potion erase the question and answer from his mind and had just barely enough time to compose myself. I wanted to test a theory...

“Draco, what exactly will make you happy?” I asked again.

He was silent as he thought this over. I could see it in his eyes that he had a pretty good idea of what he thought might make him happy, but that he needed to edit it for my benefit. When ready, he smiled and answered my question. 

“Getting married and having a family of my own,” he stated, his voice ringing with honesty. Which meant that he cared enough not to lie to me and _wanted_ to tell me the truth, he just... couldn't. Or at least he didn't think he could.

“So you're looking forward to marrying Astoria?” I pressed, curious as to how he would answer and whether he would lie or simply edit the truth again.

He shrugged. “As much as I can.”

Now that I knew the truth, I could hear the unspoken portion that he most certainly added in his head:  _considering that I'm in love with a man._ I nodded in acceptance, stroking my chin as I thought this through.

“I'm glad. Your happiness is the only thing I want,” I admitted.

He looked surprised at that. “My happiness? Not the next Malfoy Heir?”

I frowned a little, since he had just mentioned having a family. “Aren't they the same thing?”

“Well, yes, in a way,” he murmured, sounding speculative. 

And now I realized that he said that a family of his own would make him happy, but he didn't actually mention children. Perhaps he was clinging to some desperate hope deep down inside that he could marry Harry and they could adopt and have a family that way – which would mean the end of the Malfoy line – thus, no Heirs. On the other hand, if they didn't adopt, simply marrying the man he loved would count as having a family of his own. And there were always potions they could try...

I sighed, deeply unhappy by the fact that I was so sure I knew what was best for him that I was unable to see that my son had fallen in love at some point. Yes, there was every reason for him to hide it – and none of them had anything to do with the fact that they were both men. All those reasons he hid his love revolved around the unfortunate truth that one part of this equation was the world's greatest hero and the other part was a former death eater.

This was a tricky situation and would take a delicate and very subtle hand. I sighed, probably sounding morose, which made Draco look at me curiously. I smiled at him in return.

“If you'll excuse me, I just remembered some urgent business I have to take care of.”

“Of course, father. Good evening,” he wished as he left.

And just like that, I felt as if I had been hit in the heart by a cutting hex. My son – one of only two reasons why I still got up each morning – was a sheer joy to be around. His unspoken love for me was written with every act he performed, and by Salazar! I will show him that it's not too late for me to set aside my deeply ingrained pride and do exactly what I promised him on the day he was born.

Do whatever it takes to make him happy.

But first, I needed to send an owl to the Daily Prophet telling them to delay printing the article about Draco's engagement, citing a mistake in the engagement contract that needed to be cleared up before the announcement could be made. 

 

Harry's POV

I ran a hand through my messy black hair and yawned as I padded barefoot into my kitchen. I well knew that I'd be no good to anyone until I'd had my first cup of tea, but even so, there was an owl waiting for my attention. I retrieved the package from her and set it aside so that I could pet her fluffy head and give her a treat. She cooed and rubbed her head against my hand, obviously looking for more attention. I responded by not only petting her more thoroughly, but also giving her a kiss.

Tittering like a maiden in love, she took flight and left through the window that was always open to admit owls – but well warded to prevent intruders or anything harmful from getting in. I watched her go with a smile, wondering if it was time to get a new owl after all. With a shrug, I put a kettle on to heat up while I went to the loo.

Around ten or so minutes later, when my tea was ready and I'd also made some eggs to eat on buttery toast, I sat down to eat my breakfast. That was when I remembered that I'd received a package. I summoned it with a flick of my wand, noticing that it was a letter and a small box. Both had made it through my wards, so probably weren't harmful, but I scanned them anyway.

Clean.

I opened the letter first.

_Mr. Potter, I know that I have no reason to hope that you will help me – or even take me seriously – but I am desperate! I will willingly give you my entire fortune if only you save my son. He was abducted while out shopping in Diagon Alley two nights ago, and the only thing that gives me hope that he's not already dead is this ransom note. It was sent with the ring that Draco has worn every moment since I first gave it to him for his tenth birthday. I give both to you because I'm certain that the Aurors won't search for him properly, and if you do, you can use them to find him. If you refuse, please send them back to me so that I may find him myself, but please be aware that if I must rescue him, I will do things that will guarantee my everlasting stay in Azkaban, so perhaps you will help me in order to save the people who abducted my son from the worst fate I can imagine. Sincerely, Lucius Malfoy._

I stared at the letter in shock for a long time before casting more spells in an attempt to reveal whether or not any part of it had been faked. However, even the Malfoy Seal came up as authentic. Still stunned, I pulled the letter off the ransom note and read it.

_Mr. Malfoy. We have your son. Here is his signet as proof. You have three days to come up with 100 million Galleons and leave them on the grave of your old boss's father. The moment we have the money, you'll get your son back. If not, he's dead. Don't do anything stupid._

I sighed heavily and set the letter and note aside so that I could confirm that the small package actually was the ring. Sure enough, it was the highly recognizable thick gold band embossed with a stylized M that Draco had worn for as long as I had known him. Spells assured me that it was not a fake, nor did it have any curses on it.

I set it down and rested my head in my hands. Don't get me wrong, I honestly didn't want Draco to suffer, but I didn't exactly owe him anything. If anything, he owed me. I had no obligation to rescue him – other than my seriously mental need to help everyone I could.

Maybe that was why Lucius Malfoy had told me that if I left it up to him, there'd be cold-blooded murders. Maybe he thought that my need to save people would prompt me to save _them_ if not his son. I sighed again.

If I were honest, I sort of half wanted him to do it because the world was better off without people that thought it was fine to kidnap people and hold them for ransom. Growling in frustration because deep down, I knew that there was no way I would leave someone – anyone, not even Draco Malfoy – in the hands of kidnappers, I slipped the ring on my right ring finger – surprised that it fit, if a bit snugly. I might need it to perform a location spell and this was the easiest way to make sure I didn't lose it.

Figuring that a half an hour should be enough time to assess the situation and call for backup if needed, I wrote a note that was charmed to Apparate to Hermione if I didn't return and Incendio it by then. Yes, I was rushing in like an idiot. Yes, the situation could be a trap, but...

A tiny smirk twisted my lips. I am Harry Potter after all. No matter what else can be said about me, I had incredible luck when it came to finding trouble and escaping it relatively unharmed. This quality is probably _exactly_ what Draco needs right now. It's probably why Lucius Malfoy swallowed his pride and asked for my help rather than try anything on his own.

 

 

Draco's POV

I opened my eyes with a groan. My head was pounding so hard that I really thought someone might have shrunk down a Hungarian Horntail and shoved it through my ear into my brain. The fact that it was bright and sunny out just made everything all the worse.

Closing my eyes again, I tried my hardest to figure out what had happened to me. The last thing I remember, I was... buying potion ingredients... There was searing pain – reminiscent of a Cruciatus Curse but... softer, if that made sense. And then... nothing until now.

Taking a deep breath, I tried again to figure out where I was. Nothing made sense with my eyes closed, but judging by the aches in my body, I was being held upright rather than laying on the ground. I cracked my eyes open again and tried to look around. There was no one in sight, which gave me a little hope that I'd be able to sneak away before anyone realized that I was awake.

Only, I couldn't really move. Careful testing proved that I was bound to something so tightly that even unconscious, I was basically standing uncomfortably. Yes, I had sagged a bit, but that only served to make my body ache and hurt.

For a long few minutes, I sincerely prayed that this was merely the start to a kinky weekend that would end far more pleasantly than it started. Sadly, I eventually had to admit that this was definitely not kinky anything and that it was almost certainly going to end much worse than it started.

Now that my eyes had adjusted to the bright morning sunshine, I was able to see more clearly. I immediately regretted this since I was able to see that I was standing on a grave. In a graveyard. An empty graveyard so that no one would hear me shout – aside from whoever put me here. I'm sure they were waiting comfortably nearby for me to wake up and start making a fuss. The fact that I wasn't already dead could only mean that I was meant to suffer before died.

 _Joy_...

Note the sarcasm.

Sighing, I did the only thing I could, I struggled against my bonds even though I knew they were magically reinforced and there wasn't an ice wraith's chance in Fiendfyre of escape. Damn it!

Well, I suppose there is one tiny detail that might be considered part of a vaguely silver lining. If I am tortured to death, I won't have to marry Astoria after all. Don't get me wrong, the downsides far outweigh that little bit of good, but still...

Growing weary from my struggling, I slumped a little – which mostly meant that my head hung so that I had a good view of my feet and the etching on the large marble headstone. Well, the part of it I wasn't blocking. On my right was an RI, and on my left was an LE. I could make out part of a horizontal line far above the RI, and a vertical line over the LE. Maybe part of an M? Obviously, it was the name of whomever was buried here. Equally as obviously, it did not say Malfoy.

That said, I have no idea who it actually was.

Before I could come up with a plan that didn't involve shouting for my abductor to come out and kill me already, I heard the unmistakable crack of Apparation. _Fuck_! Looks like my continued state of living is over already.

I didn't even bother looking up. Maybe if he/she/they thought I was still out cold, they'd go away to wait until later. Instead, I heard a choked gasp.

“Draco!”

_Potter?_ I was tempted to look up and confirm this information, but I just couldn't bring myself to have that sort of hope – only for it to be crushed as my wishful thinking was instantly proven wrong. There was silence for a long moment, but eventually – slowly – soft steps crept toward me.

“Strange...” I heard what still sounded like Harry Potter mutter to himself. “No one else seems to be here... I can't find the trap...”

Light noises, little swishes of air, let me know that he was probably casting every spell he could think of to discover a hidden hex or curse. I really couldn't blame him since he was more than likely right. Why else would the bloody Savior of the Wizarding World show up to the exact spot I was so conveniently waiting, all alone and bound so that I couldn't move?

“Nothing... Weird.” Harry murmured, and then cast a spell that vanished my binding. 

I fell forward with a soft cry that I couldn't quite bite back, but he caught me before I landed on the ground. He made a soothing noise, and I really would have told him not to bother – I was more or less fine – except the moment he touched me, we were both zapped by that trap. It turned out to be a spell on me that was activated by the contact between us.

We both shook from the force of it for a moment before collapsing into a heap on the ground. The only good thing about the fact that I was laying on the cold ground of a grave with Harry bloody Potter on top of me – so heavy I could barely breathe – was that my head had finally stopped hurting. I think. It's possible that I'd actually just died and could no longer feel anything.

No wait. I could feel the cold. And his breath on my neck. And all the blood in my body slowly making its way to places that really didn't need it at the moment. Salazar! What sort of sick fuck am I that being under Harry in a graveyard where abductors more than likely waited to kill us both now that we were unable to move was making me, er,  _rise_ to the occasion?

Sigh...

Harry groaned in pain – but really, what did he have to complain about? He hadn't had a dragon rampaging through his brain, nor was he currently being squashed by a far more athletically fit than necessary bloke. I mean really! Why does he need to be so muscular and in shape? 

A soft chuckle nearly made me blush like a schoolgirl as I realized that I was stroking his arm as if evaluating his muscle tone. Alright, so apparently I can move a little. Although it was still hard to breathe.

“I was right, there was a trap.” He shifted a little to look me in the eye, or so I assume since my eyes were closed. “Alright there Malfoy?”

I growled softly. “Not particularly. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on. And do you plan to lay there all day, Potter? You weigh about as much as a Hippogriff pregnant with triplets!”

He chuckled again. “Er, sorry about that. I just can't move at the moment.”

“At all?” I wondered with a frown, daring to open my eyes and look at him. His eyes were so green that I felt like they cast an Avada Kedavra straight to my gut.

“Well, I can move my head enough to look at you, but otherwise, no,” he admitted.

I looked away from him when I realized that I was rubbing his arm again and couldn't seem to stop myself. Deciding that my best bet was to completely ignore my roaming hand – and pray that he wouldn't notice it either – I reminded him that we had a problem to work out. 

“We should probably try to Apparate to safety or something and work out how to move once we're sure that no one can sneak up and murder us,” I suggested, rather reasonably, in my opinion.

“I agree, except that I can't. I mean it's not working,” Harry replied, sounding rather amused considering the situation we were in.

I closed my eyes and focused, but I couldn't Apparate us either. I let out a mildly frustrated sigh. “There must be some sort of Anti-Apparation ward around here that let you in but won't let us out.”

“That makes sense since this was obviously a trap. Only... Well, shouldn't someone have come along by now to deal with us?” Harry wondered.

“Well, considering that we can't move, perhaps they didn't think they'd have to rush,” I theorized.

“Well I can't move, but your hand seems to have no trouble groping my arse,” he pointed out with a wry smirk.

I flushed when I realized that he was right. “That's not my doing!”

“Right...” he drawled in amused disbelief. “And it's also not you poking into me rather uncomfortably?”

Damn it! I was hoping he wouldn't notice that either. With a growl, I pushed him away and sat up. Then I looked at my hands in disbelief. Apparently I  _can_ move. Like completely. Weird...

Harry rolled over and sat up. “Huh! I can move now, but I couldn't before.” He got to his feet and tried to walk away – probably to look for more traps or enemies. However, the sight of him walking away upset me in ways that I couldn't explain.

The next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back with him on top of me again. “ _Potter,_ ” I ground out.

He flushed an alarming shade of red. “Not my fault! The moment I tried to walk away, it felt like I was yanked back!”

“ _Right_...” I said, mimicking his disbelieving drawl from a few moments ago. Once again, we couldn't move, except for my hand, which was caressing his firm arse tenderly. I couldn't look him in the eye. “I _swear_ that's not me! At least, not on purpose.”

Harry chuckled. “Alright, so neither of us can control what's happening. Can you try to push me away again?”

I tried, I  _really_ did, but this was an opportunity that I'd almost certainly never have again, so to be honest, I didn't quite want it to end yet. Even so, the fact that my hand wandered to his chest must have convinced him that I was at least trying. From his chest, my hand slipped into his hair.

Harry pursed his lips in thought, actually humming: “Hmm...”

“What?” I asked curiously.

“I'm just wondering what people would say if they could see us now. Maybe that's the point of this trap? The Daily Prophet hoping to sell copies by publishing pictures of us looking like lovers. It's certainly a reasonable explanation for sticking us together like this and forcing your hand to grope me, except... well... Laying on Voldemort's dad is sort of a mood killer.”

“What?!” I blurted out in both revulsion and shock. I then shoved him off me so that I could look to see if there actually was a man underneath us that I had missed noticing somehow. I was tempted to smack myself when I realized that he was referring the the body in the grave. Right... My eyes flew to the headstone – a large marble thing that said Tom Riddle.

My expression must have turned horrified because Harry laughed. “Now that we can move again, maybe we should walk away – together – until we can Apparate away.”

“Good idea,” I admitted. Now that I _knew_ whose grave we were on, nothing short of saving my future children could make me willingly stay here. Well... I _suppose_ I'd stay if I needed to save Harry, but that was only because I owed him a life debt.

He got to his feet, and then held out his hand to help me get to mine. I took his hand without even thinking about it, but then found that I liked holding his hand so much that I had an extremely hard time letting it go again. Literally. 

We both frowned at our joined hands when they wouldn't come apart. We tugged on them. Then we stepped away from each other as much as possible and  _pulled_ , but nope. It was liked they were glued.

“Er...” I droned in confusion.

Once again, Harry looked as if he was thinking this over. Then he looked up at my hair and his eyes widened. “Er... how do you feel about spiders in general? Particularly large ones?”

“What?!” I asked in alarm, my hands flying to my hair a bit frantically as I tried to fling away whatever he was looking at.

“Don't worry, you got it,” he assured me, and then pointed away from the grave. “We should try that direction.”

With a nod, I followed him. Once again, I looked at my hands with a frown, wondering why it was that I couldn't make them do what I wanted when I wanted, but the moment Harry startled me, they suddenly worked again. It was downright peculiar!

“Hmm... According to the note your father sent me,” Harry murmured softly, as if he was talking more to himself than to me. “He had to choose between rescuing you and rescuing your mother. She was apparently taken to the forest south of Malfoy Manor and he –” 

I have no idea what my father did because I yelped out: “What?!” Just as I seized Harry's hand and Apparated us to the forest he mentioned.

“Aha...” Harry exhaled, biting his lip in thought.

“Where?” I demanded fiercely. “Where do they have her?”

“Calm down, I'm sure your mother is just fine,” he said as he pointed at the Manor. “She was never taken. I just wanted to test out my theory that even though I couldn't Apparate, you could. And I was right.”

I frowned and closed my eyes to concentrate on Apparating to my bedroom from here, only I couldn't. “What's going on?!” I roared in frustration.

“I think that – although I haven't quite worked out why yet – but I think that we've been bound together somehow. I can't do anything at all – such as Apparate or walk away from you – and neither can you, unless you're startled into it,” Harry explained. 

It sort of made sense, except for  _how_ my magic only worked when I was startled. I mean if it worked at some points, it should work when I wanted it to as well. And since it didn't,  _why_ didn't it?

“So...” I ventured cautiously. “This was all some sort of plot to tie you to me?”

“Seems like it,” Harry stated with a shrug.

“But _why_?” I cried out. It made no sense to bind us together like this.

“Maybe so that whoever is behind this will be able to find me when they are ready to finish what they started,” Harry suggested.

“Alright...” I agreed quietly. “Except that if you're stuck to me, you'll be in the Manor, behind centuries of protective wards.”

“Which means that it's probably safer if we stay at my place,” Harry said, startling me.

“Your...?”

“I'm starting to wonder if they hit you over the head hard enough to scramble your brains,” Harry informed me with a strange look.

“And what in Merlin's raunchy hole makes you think that, Potter?” I wondered in dismay.

He exhaled softly in relief. “Just that you haven't acted much like  _you_ – aside from the first words out of your mouth in the graveyard.” He tilted his head to the side and added: “And then just now.”

“I assure you that I am quite me,” I sneered haughtily. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go check on my mother to be absolutely certain that you were telling the truth about her being unharmed.”

I fully intended to walk away, into Malfoy Manor, except that I couldn't. I tried again, only my feet felt stuck to the ground. I tapped my fingers against my leg impatiently as I looked from my feet to Harry.

“Or not. Can you move?” I asked.

“Nope,” Harry confirmed. 

“Well this is highly inconvenient,” I muttered unappreciatively. 

Normally, I'd be delighted to be stuck in Harry's general vicinity – especially since we were alone and getting along – but I really did want to check on my mother. Only the fact that checking on my mother meant bringing Harry into the same room as my parents made me hesitate. I didn't want him to insult them, and – strangely – I didn't want  _them_ to upset him.

Harry peered at me intently. “What do you want most at this moment?”

I looked to the sky as I thought this over. Immediately, visions of taking Harry by the hand and kissing him assaulted me, making me frown. I knew that I'd secretly had feelings for him since... Well... Possibly all the way back to fourth year when he defeated a dragon with his utterly fantastic flying. But there was no way I was going to tell him that.

“Making sure my mother is fine,” I told him instead. “My parents are the most important people in my life.”

He tried to move, then gave me a look as if daring me to move. I tried and found that I couldn't move either. I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Obviously, this is a curse to drive us both crazy as quickly as possible,” I sneered. “Maybe we're intended to kill each other?”

“You're such an arrogant arse!” Harry roared in frustration.

I hauled back to slap him for his impertinence, realized that my arm was moving on its own again, and willed it to stop. To my surprise, Harry laughed. 

“I take it what you wanted most for a moment there was to smack me?” He asked with a grin.

“Er...” I droned, not entirely sure it was wise to admit that out loud.

“So now the question becomes, do we wait here until you get hungry enough to override whatever it is you won't admit to, or do I continue to anger you until you either hex me to death or Apparate away in disgust?” Harry asked in the tone one would use to discuss the weather while having tea.

“Wait, how do you know that it's just me? Who's to say that you can't move as needed when startled? For example, if I had figured this out sooner and told you that someone you love – such as that weasel or perhaps a nest full of fire breathing baby dragons – was in danger, maybe you'd have been able to Apparate away,” I pointed out.

Harry sighed. “Well, the thing I want most at the moment is to go home and cancel the note that should be sending itself to Hermione any minute now telling her and Ron to come rescue me from Little Hangleton – since I'm not actually in need of rescue. Also, I'd just plain like to talk to her so that she can help us figure out what is going on and what we can do to fix it.”

“Right,” I stated, admitting that he didn't have a reason to lie like I did, and thus, he probably was well and truly stuck. I growled and ran a hand through my hair. Before I could think about it, I took hold of his hand and dragged him after me toward my house.

“See? You can walk because it's what you want,” Harry pointed out, then bit his lip in thought. “Although, perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe we _can_ both do what we want so long as we do it together. Or maybe agree on it first? Because I could actually move a little when I thought that my first priority should be checking on your mum after all – in an attempt to give you what you wanted.”

The moment we stepped through the ward around the Manor, my parents Apparated in front of us. They were clearly relieved to see me. My mother even had a tear in her eye! What I wanted most at that moment was to hug her, so I let go of Harry and did just that. My father wrapped us both in his arms and held on tight for longer than I was strictly comfortable with.

When we finally let go of each other, my mother gave me a kiss on my cheek and held my hands in hers. “I'm so happy you're alright!”

My father frowned. “I was so sure that whoever took you would kill you before I actually had a chance to collect the ransom.”

Harry snorted a bit derisively. “They probably didn't expect you to be able to come up with 100 million Galleons, and so... huh! Maybe that's why no one was there? Maybe they just assumed you'd starve to death while your father tried to –” 

I quirked a brow at him, which made him stop talking. “Of course my father could come up with 100 million Galleons. Why wouldn't he be able to?” I turned to look at my father. “Is that what they asked for?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Although I offered Mr. Potter far more than that – our entire fortune – if he rescued you since I didn't think anyone who had the audacity to abduct a Malfoy would wait even three days for me to visit my vault. I really thought that they'd be busy torturing and killing you...” he trailed off with a haunted look.

“They didn't,” I assured him, patting him on the arm. “So far as I know. I was unconscious and don't remember anything other than terrible pain and a headache. Then I was rescued.”

My father gave me a disbelieving look. “You were unconscious for two whole days? Well, two nights.”

“It seems so,” I confirmed.

“They must have used pain curses to prevent you from waking up,” mother speculated. 

My father sighed heavily. “I'm afraid I have bad news.”

“What?” I asked curiously. 

“I was so – er – concerned about you, that I rashly concluded that the Greengrasses were behind the abduction in order to avoid your marriage after all. I sent them a rather nasty letter warning them to give you back before I went over there to remind them why I have such a bad reputation. They sent back a frosty letter letting me know that they were so affronted by the accusation that they called off the engagement.”

I was taken aback by this. “What???”

I actually reeled in shock, stumbling backwards and bumping into Harry. Not only was I now bound to Harry, but I also didn't have to marry Astoria? “I think I must be dreaming...”

Harry snorted in amusement. “Nope! Inconveniently bound to me, remember?”

“What do you mean?” My mother inquired.

I sighed. “As far as we can determine, the two of us are stuck together and can't move at all unless either I really want it, or we're in agreement about it.”

“Oh dear,” my mother tutted. “That sounds inconvenient indeed. We should look in the library to see if we can find what bond this might be.”

A silvery otter burst into existence next to us. “Harry! Where are you?!”

Harry sighed as if in defeat. “Damn it! Draco can you please really want me to take out my wand and let her know that she doesn't have to call out a search party?”

The moment he asked that, that's exactly what I wanted! There was absolutely no need for the Ministry to think they needed to haul us all in for kidnapping their precious Savior. Harry whipped his wand out and cast a Patronus Charm causing a magnificent silver stag to run around us for a moment before stopping to stare at Harry.

“Tell Hermione: Sorry! I'm fine. I'm just having a bit of a situation. I'll send you another Patronus or an owl of explanation in a few minutes,” he said. The stag bowed to him respectfully and ran off.

The otter returned before we could take more than a few steps toward the Manor – walking because neither Harry nor I could Apparate. “Are you sure? Because your note was more than a little alarming. Nearly put Ron off his breakfast!”

Harry cast another Patronus. “Tell Hermione: I'm really sorry. I thought I was walking into a trap and I did, it's just not life threatening.” He paused and I could see his eyes slowly roll in an arc from the right to the left, as if he was thinking that it probably would turn out to be life threatening sooner rather than later. “Yet. I promise that I'm fine and I'll tell you more as soon as I know more.”

The otter came back once more to say: “Alright.” Then it was joined by a silvery Jack Russel Terrier. “You're suppose to go flying with the Chudley Canons in a bit. Want me to Polyjuice into you and take your place?”

Harry laughed and cast his Patronus once more. “Tell Ron: Knock yourself out, mate! Don't bother bringing a broom, the Canons' sponsor is presenting me with their latest model for the publicity. Try not to look  _too_ goofy when they take pictures of you.”

When the terrier returned, it ran around Harry's feet excitedly. “Thanks Mate! You're the best!”

I raised a brow curiously. “Do you often have your weasel go out in public as you?”

Harry shrugged. “Only when I can't or don't want to and he does.” Then he chuckled. “And Hermione sometimes handles my Ministry appearances.”

Speaking of which, the otter returned. “Don't forget, Harry, that you're supposed to meet with Kingsley this afternoon. You missed an appointment this morning – a planning meeting for the Orphans of the War fundraiser that you're spearheading, so I rescheduled it for this evening, but that means that we'll probably be up fairly late this evening going over this bill we're planning to introduce to the Wizengamot tomorrow. You  _are_ planning to be back in time for that, right? You're not going to have an emergency at the last minute and back out, right?  _Right_ ?!”

Harry laughed and cast his Patronus once more – we were nearly at the front door of the Manor by this point. “Tell Hermione: Calm down love! As far as I know, I should be by your side in front of the Wizengamot tomorrow. As for today, I'm really not sure what's going to happen yet. I might have to cancel with Kingsley, and it's probably best to push that meeting to tomorrow night.”

“You can't, you already have a meeting booked tomorrow night, though I'd have to go look through your diary to remember who with or what the meeting is about,” the otter said in Granger's voice and then sighed. “Fine, I'll send your regrets to Kingsley and conduct your planning meeting for you, but you're going to owe me an entire basket of chocolates from Honeydukes for this!”

Harry replied with: “Tell Hermione: Go ahead and order whatever you want and charge it to my account. Oh! And I didn't have a chance to sort through my mail today. Could you please check it to make sure that there's nothing that might die if I don't get to it soon?”

“Doing that as we speak. There's a couple of lovely plants – one of which is deadly and I'm sending to Neville for you since I know he would love it and know how to care for it. Only two kneazles, an impressive five crups, an alpaca – why do people send you alpacas? Another hen, this one looks a bit like a phoenix, along with three dozen eggs – which I'm just going to give to charity for you since your fridge is full. And finally, a lovely little snake. I put that in a spare cage and fed it so that it can't get into any trouble before you have a chance to talk to it and explain the rules of your snake habitat. I think your anaconda tried to eat me again when I went in there to feed them.”

“Tell Hermione: Floyd just thinks it's funny to scare you. He knows perfectly well that he'll be sent back to the jungle where he'll have to hunt for his own food if he hurts you,” Harry assured her.

At this point, I had to wonder why Harry was still having no problems casting spells to talk to his friends, since I didn't really like them and if this binding really was affected by what I want, it would have stopped him a while ago. But then I realized that listening in on his conversation was fascinating.

“You have a snake habitat?” I questioned in surprise.

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug. “I've grown to love snakes. They're interesting and surprisingly loyal once they realize that I'll feed them whenever they want. As for the rest of the animals, I had to buy a large farm and hire a couple to look after them for me. I've got close to 20 alpacas now, a half a dozen pigs, at least three dozen chickens, nine or ten rabbits, a goat, three lovely cows, and so many kneazles, crups, cats, and dogs that I've honestly lost count.”

“Why so many?” I wondered, inexplicably curious.

“Well, people seem to think that I've made it my life's mission to rescue everything I can, so most of the animals I'm sent come with a note that says something like: This cat was found starving and injured and while I've healed him and fed him up a bit, I can't keep him. Will you please save him from being tossed back out on the street again?” Harry sighed, and then shrugged. “Although the alpacas just keep being sent to me by people who seems to love alpacas and think I should too. They come with notes that say: This is Clara; she's my favorite alpaca and I know you'll just love her. She's smart and her wool is extremely soft.”

I raised a brow, wondering why he didn't just send them back.

“And since I have people who know how to take care of animals, it's actually rather nice to have all those alpacas. They get sheared once a year, and that wool is cleaned, carded, and hand spun into yarn by Mrs. O'Ryan, which I give to Molly, who knits it into jumpers, hats, scarves, and whatnot for me to give to charity. It works out rather well,” Harry explained with a smile.

“I had no idea you were so charitable, Potter,” I remarked in an even tone so that I didn't sound impressed.

“It's my fatal flaw,” he admitted with a shrug. “I just can't _not_ help anything that needs me.”

I snorted in amusement because this morning was proof enough that his statement was true. “Bloody Gryffindor!”

I watched him look around the Manor as we walked to the library. He didn't look impressed – which was a bit of a disappointment – but he did look more relaxed than I thought he'd be considering what happened the last and only time he'd been here. My mother took advantage of the lull in our conversation.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter, for rescuing our son. Having him missing for nearly a full day before we received a ransom note was almost enough to kill me.”

“Yes,” my father agreed. “As I promised, I'll gladly give you our entire fortune for returning him to us.”

I goggled incredulously at this, nearly choking over my own tongue. “What?!”

“Don't faint, Malfoy,” Harry said with obvious amusement. “I don't need your money – I've got enough of my own.”

“You think I'm not serious?” My father asked with a glare at Harry. “You don't think I love my son enough to give up everything for his safety?”

Harry held up his hands and hastily waved them around. “It's not that! I honestly,  _seriously_ don't need the money!”

“Then what _do_ you need?” My mother asked in a thoughtful tone.

Harry shrugged. “Nothing, really. Helping people is its own reward. Although, I wouldn't turn down a generous donation to the fundraiser I'm organizing for war orphans.”

I growled softly. “Stop being such a Gryffindor for five minutes and let us repay our debts for once!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I tell you what, how about we figure out how to break this bond and go our separate ways. I'll consider that this debt repaid in full.”

The suggestion that he wanted to get away from me as soon as possible caused a strange pain to shoot through me. As a result, Harry was flung into me, which I held up my hands and tried to push him away, only I couldn't.

“Potter! Get off me!”

“I can't!” He roared. “I can't even move again!”

“Well I can move, but I can't push you away,” I informed him. 

The strangest thing was that I felt rather embarrassed to have him pressing me up against the wall just outside our library in front of my parents. I  _did_ want him to stop. Even so, I  _really_ liked the way he felt and my blood was inappropriately traveling south again.

Harry growled softly. “Calm down, Draco, and think about what it is you want most at the moment.”

“Er...” Privacy. To my surprise, this thought triggered an unexpected and probably highly dangerous Apparation to my bedroom.

Harry looked around and raised a brow at me.

I flushed and looked away. “I wanted to stop being watched like a specimen in a zoo by my parents, that's all.”

A house elf appeared next to us. “Mistress Narcissa says that she and the Master will research bonds in the library, and Master Draco and Mister Harry Potter can join them when you've sorted yourselves out for the moment.”

“Thank you Muffy,” I murmured and she disappeared.

Harry sighed and relaxed as much as he could considering that he was still stuck to me. “I'm beginning to think that it doesn't matter what bond this is, the key seems to be you. If you just tell me what you want, we can work it out and then hopefully break the bond.”

I frowned. “What if what I want most is something completely barmy such as going ice fishing in the arctic ocean?”

“Well, that sounds cold, but at least it's doable,” Harry stated with a shrug.

“What if it's flying a dragon in a race?” I questioned.

“Er... probably not easy, but still doable,” Harry replied, looking as if he was ever so slightly amused.

“What if it's shagging you?” I asked with a brow raised in challenge, hoping to imply that this was simply on my list of barmy suggestions.

He tilted his head curiously. “Is it?”

Damn! I was hoping he'd give it a try before asking that. I rolled my eyes and cast him my darkest  _how stupid are you_ look.

“Damn it Draco! Stop fucking around and just tell me what you want!” He roared in frustration.

“What if I don't know what I want?!” I roared in return.

He sighed a bit heavily. “Then I suspect that we are going to be bound together for a very long time.”

“You don't have to sound so depressed about it,” I muttered under my breath, but since he was literally pressed up against me, he heard every word.

“You want me to be happy we're being forced to grope each other?” Harry asked with a raised brow. I think he was chuckling in his head.

As for his words, they made me realize that yes, my hand – er  _hands_ – were once again feeling him up quite a bit. He wasn't actively touching me, so I suppose that he considered being here in my arms as good as groping me. Especially since that inconvenient problem below my expensive belt was wedged between his legs.

I blushed, shut my eyes, and looked away as I took deep and purposeful breaths.

He sighed very softly and whispered. “Draco, if what you want most at the moment is to shag me, I'd be willing to give it a go if it means breaking this bond – or at least giving us a bit of space.”

His words made me irrationally furious and I shoved him away from me so that I could definitely  _not_ storm into the en suite bathroom. “What I want most at the moment is a shower to get rid of the grass and other debris from being tied to a grave for who knows how long!” I called over my shoulder.

“And apparently you don't want me going anywhere,” he called after me. “Because I can't move. Will you at least want me to sit down or something?”

I stopped and looked back at him; the sight of him standing uncomfortably next to my bed temporarily exacerbated the problem I was hoping to wank away in the shower. As a result, Harry flew onto my bed, face down and with his arms parallel to his body so that his hands were on either side of his head. To my surprise, he laughed.

“So you _do_ want to shag me?”

That fury inside me boiled hotter than ever. “So what if I do?! I don't know what you think of me, but I'm not the sort of person to bed someone who doesn't want me – even if it  _will_ get rid of this bond!” I finished not storming away, growling angrily as I stripped off and threw my clothes in the hamper.

“Draco!” Harry yelled so that I could hear him, but I ignored him... until he repeated himself – getting louder and louder – so much that I got enraged.

“WHAT?!?!”

“I didn't exactly have time for a shower this morning either,” he pointed out.

This made me picture him naked in the shower with me. I closed my eyes and groaned in longing. Chuckling startled me, making my eyes fly back open.

“You know, I think I'm starting to figure out how to work with this bond,” Harry informed me as my eyes very carefully verified that yes, he was now standing naked in the bathroom with me and the shower had turned on all by itself. “It seems that if I suggest something you want – especially if I can take you off guard with the suggestion – it happens before you can stop it.”

I sighed in frustration. “Well, don't think that just because the bond seems to be trying to give me what I want, that I'm enjoying it. As I said before, it's rather inconvenient.”

“Oh, I know that. I can see you fighting it every step of the way,” Harry said as he stepped into the shower and stood under the hot spray. He said nothing for a long moment as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Eventually, he let out a soft sigh of contentment. “My shower isn't anywhere near this nice. I should really have it remodeled.”

I was too flustered and caught up in fulfilling voyeuristic fantasies to join him in the shower. I didn't even mind that he was using all my things. In fact, I rather liked the idea that he was going to spell like me by the time he was done. Suddenly, he looked over and smirked at me mischievously.

“Well, if you're not actually going to shower, maybe you could go away and leave me alone.”

His words triggered a surge in me that had me flying into  _him_ for once. He grabbed onto me so that I couldn't slip and fall. Then he grinned. 

“I was right!”

I frowned in confusion. “Right about what?”

“I noticed that every time I suggest something to the effect of separating, we end up getting squashed together,” he told me.

“Oh...” I whispered, realizing that he was right. 

“And even if you try to push me away, you can't unless you get upset with me or concerned about something else,” he continued.

“Er...” I hesitated, because while it was probably true, it means that I have subconsciously wanted him thrown into me a disconcerting amount of times today – and it wasn't even lunchtime yet!

He dropped his voice to a whisper that he deposited directly into my ear. “Which means that you want me with you. A lot. I can understand why you won't admit to it. But you can't lie to the bond, Draco, and thus, you can't lie to me.”

“I don't want you with me,” I lied because – as he said – I just _couldn't_ admit to what I wanted. To my dismay, my arms wrapped around him so tightly that I was half afraid he couldn't breathe.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he murmured, still in my ear, before he shifted and... kissed me...

I was so startled by this that I didn't respond at all for a long moment, and then I clutched his wet hair and backed him up against the wall as I not only returned his kiss, but fiercely demanded the right to explore his mouth with my tongue.

I am ashamed to admit that I got completely carried away, kissing him and exploring his body with my hands, escalating the situation to the point where I was about ready to shag him unprepared and dry in about two seconds from now because that's what I wanted more than anything at the moment. Except I realized something important. He was only cooperating because he wanted to get rid of the bond, so I pulled back and rested my head on my right arm – which was braced against the wall.

Panting heavily, I tried my best to calm down.

“Why did you stop?” He wondered with a curious frown, and for a change, it was his hands that were roaming over my body.

“Because you only want to break the bond. You don't actually want me,” I admitted because I wasn't looking at him and I could pretend that he wasn't listening to me.

“I do Draco, I really do,” he said, confirming my suspicions and breaking my heart – which was unfair because I had no right to be so attached to him. Then he cleared his throat and added: “Want you, I mean. How could I not? Merlin's wrinkly old prick! Have you _seen_ how hot you look?”

“What?” I asked in surprise, actually looking at him. Once again, his eyes were so startlingly green that I felt dizzy just looking at them.

He gave me a soft kiss. “I want you,” he murmured before giving me another soft kiss. “I want you so badly.” Another kiss. “Please...”

If I had even a shred of dignity or self respect left at that point, it was completely blown away by his quiet begging. So much for taking a shower! Grabbing his hand, I dragged him to the counter so I could take hold of my wand and cast a Scourgify on my body, followed by drying spells on both of us. After that, I dragged him to my bed and threw him on it so that I could climb on top of him.

Then – since I still wanted to bury myself inside him this exact second – I forced myself to go slowly and simply kiss him some more. However, I was too worked up to take any real time to prepare him. Spreading his legs wide with my hands, I cast all the spells necessary to clean him out, prepare, and lubricate him for me. I also slicked up my shaft.

Just as I was pressing into him, a thought occurred to me that made me stop completely. “What if this doesn't work?”

“What?” He asked with a tone that suggested he was too worked up to understand anything that wasn't directly related to shagging.

“Well, whether you want me or not, you also hope that this will break the bond by giving me what I want, but what if it doesn't? What if it doesn't have any effect on the bond at all?” I asked in all seriousness.

Harry harrumphed. “So we deal with that later, because I swear I will murder you if you don't shag me right now!”

“Well...” I murmured, trying to sound affronted. “If you insist.”

“I do! I most definitely do!” He literally insisted.

With a smile, I pushed into him, holding tight to the very thin thread of control I still had so that I didn't rip him up like a barbarian. He shifted a bit to give me better access, and I shifted a bit to find the right angle, but then it was like magic. Pleasure hit me that was so intense that it took my breath away. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to last long – which was more than a little disappointing since I'd love to keep going for the rest of the day.

Something I was doing in my near mindless rutting must have been good for him because he bucked up into me, let out a sound that suggested he was being strangled, and then dug his fingers into my back as he pumped out several streams between us. I groaned and promptly lost all control of my stamina. Filling him up was sheer bliss on a level I have never felt before.

When I was done, I collapsed onto him, not even caring that I was smearing his spunk all over both our stomachs. Then I just lay there. Feeling something very unfamiliar. It was a warm feeling. A good feeling. It resembled contentment but was a hundred times better. Happiness maybe?

It took me a long time to realize that Harry was carding his fingers through my hair. To my astonishment, I didn't care! Even more surprising, I really liked the feel. I think I was even purring very softly.

“Well, I can move a bit, but I'm not sure if that's because you want me to, or if it's because the bond doesn't think I'm trying to escape,” Harry stated five or ten minutes later.

I huffed very softly in surprise. “Actually, I can't move. At all.”

“Er... Do you actually want to move?” Harry wondered.

“No. I really don't,” I admitted, again because I wasn't looking at him and could pretend that he wasn't listening to me.

“So...” he began hesitantly. “How long have you wanted me?”

I pressed my lips together firmly.

He stroked my back soothingly and whispered: “Draco... how long?”

I turned my face so that it was buried in the crook of his arm. “I don't know. It feels like my whole life.”

“Then why didn't you ever tell me?”

I sat up abruptly and looked away from him. “Because yes, that would have worked out  _so well_ ! 'Oi, Potter, I know I was a mean little bastard to you, always trying to get you in trouble, attempting to Crucio you, breaking your nose, and things like that, but it was only because I wanted you to notice me. To think about me.' Oh sure! That would have made you believe me and then we would have been together and happy as Hufflepuffs!”

Harry put a hand on my arm, but didn't try to get me to look at him. “But... you didn't even try... I honestly had no idea! I didn't even notice you look at me twice if we happened to spot each other in Diagon Alley.  _You were going to get married?!_ If you wanted me so much, why would you agree to get married without at least asking me out for drinks or something?”

I sighed, pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on them. “Because as much as I wanted to be with you, I wanted to make my father happy more. He's been talking for years about how much he's looking forward to having a grandchild to dote on. And then there's the whole Savior/Death Eater thing. I figured that it was an impossible dream and that I was better off getting married and having a baby. That way, I'd at least have the family I wanted.”

Harry was quiet for a moment as he thought this over. “Well... I suppose that until we figure out how to get rid of this bond, we'll just have to see if we have what it takes to make a relationship between us work.”

I was stunned. “But... Why would you date me?!”

“Because you actually represent a lot of the things I want in life – such as a close family. More importantly, I know that you know how to keep me on my toes and make life exciting, and probably the biggest reason... Well, I remember clearly the day that I was standing in front of you and everyone wanted you to confirm that I was me, but you didn't. Something shifted inside me that day. It wasn't all that sudden as it had been slowly happening since that day in the bathroom, but...” he trailed off with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

I looked over at him, waiting. Far more curious that I wanted to admit.

“First, you have to realize that I was in a large amount of pain that day, so I couldn't think about much of anything, and what little I could was taken up by trying to get free and rescue Hermione. But after, when I had time to think about it. I realized that I no longer hated you in the slightest. That I wanted to help you. That you deserved a chance to be happy just as much as I did. That I wanted to get to know you better. That said, after the war, I thought that the best thing I could do for you was just leave you alone.”

“I thought the same. About you. I thought you'd want me to just leave you alone,” I admitted.

He brushed a hand along the side of my face, which caught my attention for a couple of reasons. First, it was a surprisingly tender gesture. And second, I noticed my signet ring on his finger. The sight of it on his hand was a bit like an arrow to my heart. I seriously liked seeing him wear something of mine. Something that could proclaim him as mine. Without realizing it, I had taken his hand to stare at it – a hundred different little fantasies running through my head in the space of a second or two.

Marriage. Kids. His eyes. Growing old together. Dying together; in bed; of old age; surrounded by a bevy of children and grandchildren and maybe even great-grandchildren. 

He had to have noticed me staring at my ring because he took his hand back. “Oh, sorry! I only put it on so I wouldn't lose it and I thought I might need it to cast a location spell. I'll give it back now.” But try as hard as he did, he couldn't remove it. “Er... it seems to be stuck. It's really snug and won't...” He stuck his entire finger in his mouth to lubricate the ring and try again. Only, it still wouldn't come off. “My knuckle seems to be too big. We'll probably have to find a spell or something to slip the ring off. Oh! I bet I could make it temporarily intangible.”

Harry tried that, but the ring still refuse to come off his finger. That was when he looked at me suspiciously. “Draco... do you actually  _want_ me to wear your ring?”

“Er...” I looked away as I debated lying, except that I was well aware by now that I couldn't do so without it being blatantly obvious that that was exactly what I was doing. So I sighed in defeat and told the truth. “Yeah...”

He was quiet for at least three heartbeats. “Alright... Do you want to get dressed and go help your parents research bonds?”

Immediately, he flew into me and squashed me into the bed. I flushed in embarrassment and was surprised when he laughed. “Apparently not! So... Is it because you want to shag me again, or something else?”

I took some time to think this over, only to come to the conclusion that no matter how inconvenient it was, I didn't want to know anything about the bond – such as how to break it. I didn't think this would go over very well. So I lied.

“Actually, yes. I want to shag you as often as possible, and right now sounds like as good a time as any.”

Harry gave me a suspicious look, which I deflected by kissing him. When the kiss started to feel like it was searing my very soul, I shifted so that I could lick and suck a path down the side of his neck – leaving at least one fairly prominent spot that would be noticeable for a while. I moved on to suck on his nipples for a bit, then trailed ever farther down until I was able to take his shaft into my mouth. It was already a little more than half hard with interest, which was perfect in my opinion because it was just squishy enough to cram in my mouth without choking on or trying to deep throat. At least at first.

Harry moaned and grabbed my hair as his shaft definitely finished firming up. I had far more fun than one might think simply worshiping that beautiful shaft for close to an hour. Considering that he had just orgasmed not too long ago, it seemed like he wasn't quite able to do so again so soon. His legs started vibrating from the pleasure at some point as he thrashed and squirmed. Eventually, he just couldn't take the prolonged pleasure anymore.

“Please!” He cried out, making me wonder what exactly he wanted me to do so badly. Then he clutched my hair painfully for one second before trying to push me away.

Relenting, I asked: “What do you want me to do?”

He was panting so heavily that he almost couldn't speak. “Finger,” he managed to get out a moment later.

“Mmm,” I hummed in thought. “Like this?” Carefully, I pushed a finger inside him and wiggled it around until I found the one spot that made him yelp and almost jump off the bed.

“Yes!”

I utterly loved seeing him fall apart under my touch, so I added a finger and used them both to rub him in the right way as I resumed worshiping his shaft. At that point – although I would have loved for this to go on for another hour or so – he was so ready that it didn't take much more than a minute before he was erupting with a strangled cry. His hand was gripping my hair again, but it seemed like he wasn't quite sure whether to pull me in closer or push me away. I did my best to swallow every single drop, humming in pleasure as a tremor shook his whole body for a few seconds before he...

I think he actually blacked out! 

His whole body went completely limp, although his breathing was ragged. His eyes were mostly closed and what little of them I could see looked as if they'd rolled to the back of his head. If he wasn't clearly still breathing, I would have been worried that I'd accidentally killed him. As it was, I was starting to grow concerned that I'd somehow put him into a coma or something.

Then – to my profound relief – his eyes fluttered open and looked at me. “Wow...” he exhaled so softly that I almost didn't hear him.

Relieved, I climbed back up his body and rested my head on his shoulder. I wasn't quite sleepy enough to take a nap, but I pretended to drift off so that he'd hopefully stay right where he was and not want to go anywhere or do anything. As I hoped, there was blissful silence for a long time. Then he squirmed a bit.

“Okay, this is weird,” he muttered, with a soft frown, which I looked up to see because I was curious as to what he was talking about. He shifted his eyes from the general direction of the ceiling, to look right at me. “I am not quite sure what to think about cuddling with you all day.”

“Why?” I wondered since it seemed like the perfect idea to me.

“Well... I didn't really think you'd be a cuddler – for one. And, well... you're you and I'm me. I never seriously thought things would end up like this. I mean yes, I thought about it and wondered what it would be like, but I guess I just assumed that you'd hex me rather than shag me,” Harry awkwardly tried to explain.

I simply shrugged and settled down to pretend to nap some more.

“Er... Draco? Are you getting hungry at all? Would you like to get up and get dressed so that we can get something to eat?” Harry asked, his stomach picking that exact moment to growl and emphasize the fact that he was getting peckish.

I  _wanted_ to want to do as he suggested if for no other reason than to make him happy, but I found sort of the opposite happening. Not only did I slide one arm under him so that I could hold him tight, but a bevy of green vines appeared, winding around him and entwining around my bed so that he couldn't escape even if he could move – which I'm not actually sure he could. Actually, he probably couldn't since I didn't want him to.

He chuckled nervously. “So... this is a bit creepy.”

I exhaled a long sigh. “I know. Sorry. I'll try...” And I did try. It took a long time, but I managed to get the vines to disappear. Then I worked on forcing myself to let him go. After that, I took a few moments to want to sit up and let him sit up too. I couldn't help but smile at myself at the progress I'd made.

“Alright, so we get something to eat and then go see if your parents have found out anything about this bond,” Harry suggested and before I could throw up any sort of mental barrier to prevent it, I had a flare of sheer neediness that flung us back together so that we were squashed once more.

“Heh...” I chuckled awkwardly. “I think we should shag one more time before we do anything else.”

Harry gaped at me incredulously. “ _Again_ ?!”

I shrugged. “Why not? You can wank me, and then we can ask for a house elf to come in here and serve us a nice lunch.”

His face ran through so many expressions that it was a bit hard to keep track of all of them. The ones I did manage to catch were incredulity, amusement, frustration, disbelief, reluctance, a spike of lust, and then something sly. “Alright... I'll give you a blow job since you gave me one, and then we are definitely getting something to eat! Deal?”

“Deal,” I promised, which prompted him to cast a cleaning charm on me.

Harry wasn't very skilled, but he more than made up for that in enthusiasm. Since I'd had more time to recover from our earlier sex, I was shamefully close to finishing within moments, but I held out as long as possible. Which honestly wasn't that long. I filled his mouth with a sigh of profound relief.

Harry let me enjoy the bliss for a bit as he got up and stretched. I didn't notice at first, but when I did, I stared at him shamelessly. I think he was doing yoga – some form of light exercise involving structured stretching in a sort of flowing pattern. He looked gorgeous doing it.

“Mmm...” I moaned in appreciation.

He looked back at me with a brow raised as if he was thinking:  _again_ ??? I smirked and shrugged. Lucky for him, I was now hungry enough to keep my promise and called for an elf to bring us lunch.

As we ate our sandwiches, Harry wrote a letter to Hermione explaining everything, and then sent it to her using one of our majestic Eagle Owls. I watched in fascination as he flirted with the owl, kissing her head and giving her treats. Even more fascinating was the fact that she flirted back, hooting softly like a lover and rubbing her head against him like a cat. I was strangely jealous!

Which resulted in the letter attaching itself to her leg just before she was flung out the window. I flinched a little because I was normally not one to mistreat animals. Thankfully, she wasn't hurt and took the sudden eviction in stride, flying away to do her job.

Harry raised a questioning brow at me, making me flush.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed. It should be noted that I'm not entirely sure if I've ever said that to anyone else, but I'd said it to him more than once today alone. It was a strange concept to wrap my head around.

Just as we were finishing up our lunch, it became obvious that Hermione had received the owl. Her silver otter burst into existence next to Harry.

“Are you serious?!?! You've been bonded to Malfoy! I'm already looking through the catalog for the Wizarding Public Library and I'll order every book on bonds that I can. Come home as soon as you can and I'll tell you anything I find out, but I can't spend too much time on it just yet because – Ah! Don't you _dare_ try to get out of tomorrow! I'm going to murder you, Harry, I swear! Do you remember how long we've been working on this?! There's no way –” 

Harry sighed and cast his Patronus, which ran through hers and ended her rant. “Calm down 'Mione! I'll be there even if I have to do things none of us want to think about.”

I couldn't help it, I now was dying to know what these things were. Something in my expression must have tipped Harry off, because he chuckled.

“I was referring to casting an Imperius or something on you, but I think I am creative enough to come up with other things to try first.”

I was still intrigued. “Such as...?”

He grinned. “Well, such as: If you will agree to us getting dressed, meeting with your parents briefly to see what they know and tell them that we're going back to mine for the time being, then we'll do exactly that. In return, I promise to give you at least one more orgasm tonight when we go to bed.”

I thought this over before deciding that I could always put restrictions on this promised orgasm – such as insisting that he let me give him another blow job first. But I planned to save that particular negotiation for tonight, when I could better gauge how tired we were and how much time he had to sleep before his appointment tomorrow. Speaking of...

“How are you going to attend your meeting while bonded to me?” I wondered. “You'll probably have to bring me with at the very least.”

Harry smiled at me. “Oh... you should probably attend even if we aren't bonded. And so should your parents.”

I was frankly confused. “Er... why?”

Rather than answer, Harry simply shrugged.

Sighing –  _knowing_ that I could force him to answer me if I really wanted to – I chose to let the subject drop. “Alright. So, we'll go talk to my parents before going to your place.  _After_ we get dressed.”

Harry looked around, and then gave me a wry smirk. “You seem to have vanished my clothes.”

I felt ever so mildly embarrassed. “So I did... No matter, you can borrow something of mine. I daresay it'll look a hundred times better on you anyway.”

We went to my closet and walked up and down the aisles for a minute or so before something caught my eye as being perfect for him. But first, I summoned a pair of my favorite boxers for him. They were black silk, felt like a heavenly cloud, and embroidered with Draco in fancy silver script. 

“You have your name all over your underwear?” Harry asked in amusement as he slipped them on.

I shrugged. “I tend to receive them as gifts from my mother each year. So yeah... And I rather like them since they feel –” 

“Really good!” Harry cut me off with a grin.

“Exactly,” I agreed with a nod.

Then I had him pull on the trousers that were a soft shade of black. They were made out of a soft wool and were lined with an even softer brushed cotton intended to absorb all sweat so that they were comfortable at all times. As I'd hoped, even though they were long on him since I was a little taller, they fit his arse snugly and looked fantastic. I moaned happily as I surveyed the enticing picture. Then I cast a spell to adjust the fit – shortening the legs and widening the hip area just a bit.

Harry looked impressed. “Even though I've worn some nice clothes, I don't think I've ever had a pair of trousers that fit this well in my life!”

“That's because – even if you buy expensive clothes – you probably don't have them tailored to you. You really should as it is entirely worth the added expense,” I informed him in a tone that he may have assumed was haughty, but I intended to be a simple statement of the truth.

Then I helped him into the accompanying green button up shirt, loosening it just a bit for him. It was also made in a soft brushed cotton that was also just a little shiny. It matched his eyes fairly closely. I once again moaned quietly because I liked what I saw. Next, I helped him put on a shiny, dark blue satin tie that was subtly embroidered with a dozen or so tiny snakes in an emerald green thread. Lastly, I helped him into a waistcoat that was black satin across the back, but the front was done in shades of green and blue brushed cotton that blended together subtly and was embroidered with a swirling pattern in silver that – although I didn't expect him to notice – contained clusters of dots here and there that was a representation of my constellation.

“I feel like I'm about to go to a fancy party or something,” Harry muttered as he inspected himself in one of the many handy, full-length mirrors.

“This is more casual than formal,” I informed him with a shrug.

He smirked at me. “Does this mean that I get to pick something out for you to wear?”

I was suddenly extremely curious to see what he would pick. “By all means,” I permitted with a sweep of my hand.

Harry walked around, muttering: “Why the hell does anyone need so many clothes for anyway?” Under his breath. Then: “I'd swear this closet is bigger than my bedroom!”

Really? How small could his bedroom possibly be? I mean, this closet is only about 20 feet by 20 feet; rather small all in all. My actual bedroom is... huh! I'd never actually thought about it before, but it was spacious enough to comfortably house my bed, a dining table and chair set for six, a variety of cozy armchairs in front of the fireplace, a small library, a desk, and a piano. Nothing too much. 

The only bedroom I've ever seen that was smaller was the dormitory in Slytherin – which sort of depressed all of us because we had to share it. I mean really! Would it have killed them to cast an extension charm or two on the dorm so that we all had a decent amount of space to store our things? Good thing we all had the equivalent of a private and spacious study in the bottom of our school trunks. I think we would have murdered each other if we didn't have a bit of space to escape into from time to time.

In any case, it seems like Harry had made a decision. He held up a set of robes that were the color of the sky at noon. Not the pale shade, but the vivid shade. The robes were made of silk and cotton and were embroidered with various sun motifs in a softly golden thread. There was also a couple of cloud motifs in a delicate white thread – as if the creator wanted to acknowledge that clouds existed in the sky, but wanted to place more importance on the sunshine. It was a set of robes that I'd bought because it looked good on me, but had never worn because it represented happiness to me and I was just never in the mood to wear them.

“Alright,” I accepted mildly, summoning a pair of boxers that matched the pair he was wearing. Then I summoned the basic clothes I wore under any robes – soft black cotton trousers and white button up shirt – and put them on before slipping into the robes.

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought. “I always wondered if wizards wore anything under their robes.”

“Some do, some don't,” I replied with a smile. “It used to be considered the mark of a real wizard to be naked under their robes, and older ones often complain if they have to wear trousers. That said, traditionally, most purebloods consider it more refined to wear several layers.”

“Do these clothes have cooling charms on them?” Harry wondered, inspecting his sleeve closely as if he could see the charm written on the underside.

I chuckled softly. “Sometimes – however, the right materials will draw away heat and absorb sweat, which keeps you cool without charms.”

Harry looked in the mirror, at me, and then back in the mirror. A strange expression settled on his face. It looked... puzzled...

“What?” I asked curiously.

He blushed very lightly. “Well, it just occurred to me that since I'm wearing shades of blue and green, we sort of match.”

I shrugged. “I think all of my clothes would match in one way or another.”

Harry tilted his head side to side as if admitting that I had a point. Then he held his hand out to me. “Ready?”

I took his hand in mine, but then had to close my eyes and fight the urge to send us back to bed – or at the very least to the armchairs in front of the fire. I didn't really want to leave the wonderful intimacy that we'd fallen into. On the other hand, I had promised, and Harry had things he needed to do. Things that had nothing to do with our bond. When ready, I opened my eyes and nodded.

He was looking at me curiously, obviously trying to figure out what I was thinking. At my nod, he smiled. I apparated us to the library, where my parents were sitting in plush, overstuffed armchairs that formed a 90 degree angle with a coffee table in front of them. Each was reading a book with one hand and sipping from a cup of tea with the other. There was a stack of books laid out over the table; some open to various pages and some closed.

“Darling, good of you to join us. I was beginning to wonder,” mother greeted with a warm smile. “Please sit and have some tea. Your father and I have gone through all the books we have in the library on bonds, and so far, this particular one is elusive.”

I had to summon up enough embarrassment over the fact that my parents were surreptitiously eyeing my hand in Harry's to want to let him go. After that, the two of us sat and accepted tea from an attending house elf. I tried not to be obvious about it as I watched my father pretend to focus on the book in his hand as he took in Harry's appearance – his eyes lingering on the bruise on Harry's neck for a few extra seconds before glancing over at me with a thoughtful look for a moment.

My mother tactfully avoided looking at Harry's neck, instead focusing on his clothes. She also diplomatically did not mention that there really wasn't an overt reason for him to have changed, thus (especially combined with the rather impressive love bite) there was probably only one reason he had changed. In any case, she was as polite and gracious as ever.

“Green truly suits you, Mr. Potter. It brings out your eyes. Although, I have to wonder if there's a charm that could be used to manage your hair a bit.”

“Please, call me Harry,” he insisted with a genuine smile. “Thank you, and no. There has never been a charm that has worked on my hair. I've had not only Hermione and Molly try every single charm they could track down, but I've also had professional stylists try their best too. The closest my hair gets to... managed, is sort of artfully messy.”

“Well, I suppose there is a certain rugged charm to it, Harry, and please, call me Narcissa,” she permitted.

Harry smiled at her with just a hint of fondness, which surprised me – and practically astonished my father. “As you wish, Narcissa. I'm not sure if I ever got a chance to thank you for lying to Voldemort for me.”

Her smile faded so that she looked very somber. “Well, by that point, it was very clear that he had no regard for the lives of my husband or son, so there was no reason for me to be loyal to him,” she admitted. “More importantly, I'm told you saved my son from an out of control Fiendfyre Curse, so the little I did for you was nowhere near enough.”

Harry held up his hands. “Please, let's not go through this again. I would have saved him no matter who he was. It's sort of what I do.”

I nudged him with my foot. “Even so,  _I_ should probably thank you for that. I would have right away, but I was too shocked by Vincent's death.”

“How is Goyle doing, by the way?” Harry asked, clearly changing the subject.

“Not bad,” I replied with a shrug. “He married Millicent and I see them a few times a year.”

“So he's happy? I rather thought he'd still be depressed by what happened,” Harry murmured.

I snorted. “I'm not sure if he's  _happy_ but... no, he's not depressed. As far as I can tell.”

“Alright, so, there's nothing new on the bond,” Harry murmured, bringing the subject back to what I'm sure he considered most important. He looked at my mother again. “Although I _have_ confirmed that it seems to revolve around what Draco wants. Whether or not I agree has no bearing, but that's not so bad since I'm already figuring out how to manipulate it.”

I frowned at him. “It's actually unnerving how Slytherin you are being about this.”

Mother gave me a curious look. “Slytherin? How so?”

I gestured to Harry. “As he said, he's figured out how to manipulate it fairly well. If I'd been watching us as an observer, I would have thought that he'd be more Gryffindor about it by fighting the bond and yelling at me or trying to hex me.”

Harry gave me an utterly disarming grin. “I might have, if I could move when I first realized that something was wrong. But honestly, that would accomplish nothing but making me feel better temporarily. I figure that it will be easier for us both in the long run if I just work with the bond so that I get what I want as much as you get what you want.”

“See? Slytherin,” I stated.

He smirked at me, and if my heart wasn't already skipping every other beat from his first grin, it may well have stopped altogether at that point. I had to firmly (and mentally) slap myself to pay attention to his words and not his mouth and how badly I wanted to push him to the floor and snog him senseless. I must have managed somehow, because we weren't promptly thrown together again.

“According to the Sorting Hat, I would have done equally well in all of the houses. He spent what felt like ten minutes trying to talk me into going into Slytherin, but I adamantly refused. I had recently met a right prat who insulted my first friend and thought he was better than everyone else – who happened to be proudly sorted into Slytherin, and there was no way I was going to follow him.”

I glared at him unappreciatively. “So you're saying that the only reason you chose against Slytherin is that  _I_ was in it?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, that and both Ron and Hermione were so sure they were going to be in Gryffindor and made it sound like the best house in the school. I had only heard about the houses for the first time on the train, and I couldn't help but want to be somewhere that sounded fun.”

“Fun?” I asked with a sneer. “School is meant to be for serious study. If fun is what attracts Gryffindors, how do any of you ever manage to obtain any O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s?”

Harry snorted. “In my case, I had Hermione breathing down my neck. I studied at least enough to satisfy her or I suffered her wrath.”

Mother had silently ordered an elf to bring us a plate of biscuits, which she held out to Harry in offering. “Didn't your muggle relatives offer any incentives for good grades?”

Harry burst out laughing. “I'm fairly sure they didn't even care enough to read any progress reports that were sent to them, although I think Dumbledore and McGonagall knew that and never bothered to send any. I could have been the smartest student in school and they would have simply used that as proof confirming their belief that I'm nothing but a worthless freak. I still get a chuckle when I think about the time that Hestia and Dedalus came to pick up my Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin to bring them into protective custody, and they were going on an on with things like:  _how honored to meet you, Harry Potter's family_ ! And the look on my Uncle's face suggested that he'd just been shot and was now bleeding out all over the floor. I can spend hours wondering how Hestia and Dedalus refrained from hexing them or transfiguring them into frogs or something and claiming to lose them. It's probably for the best that they were rushed away before I actually came of age, might have given into the urge to blow my uncle up like I did his sister – only on purpose.”

I was surprised to find that my mouth was hanging open just a little. My parents appeared fairly composed, but their pallor suggested that they were also wondering whether or not to believe Harry. It would be so in character for him to be winding us up.

“What?” I asked, hoping that he'd laugh and confess that he was just joking.

“If you're suddenly worried I'll do something dark to my Aunt and Uncle while bound to you, don't be. I tend to just leave them alone. Haven't seen them since I turned 17, and thank Merlin for Hogwarts because I didn't have to see them much before that either. Just during Summer hols, which are understandably my least favorite time of year. Oh! That reminds me! Kreacher!”

The house elf popped into the room, which actually seemed to take Harry aback. I wondered why, since he must have thought it at least possible. He made a sound like: huh!

“Yes Master?” Kreacher asked in a raspy but obedient tone.

“Have I asked you to go grow the weeds in my Aunt's garden lately?”

“Not since last summer,” Kreacher replied with a respectful nod.

“Alright then, go grow them, but be subtle about it, and as always, _don't be seen!_ Just enough weeds to frustrate her and ruin her weekend,” Harry ordered.

“I look forward to it master,” the elf replied with a perverse grin.

Harry chuckled and gave me an unrepentant shrug. “She always had me weed her garden, so this is a bit of harmless payback. But if I'd thought about it, I wouldn't have expected Kreacher to be allowed through your wards.”

Mother shook off her slightly haunted expression and smiled at Harry. “The magic of a house elf allows him to attend his Master or Mistress anywhere. Our wards are set to only keep out elves who intend us harm, thus if you had ever ordered him to come hex us in our sleep, he wouldn't have been able to.”

Harry frowned as he thought this over. “That's... actually another good reason why house elves deserve to be free. I shouldn't  _be able_ to order him to hex anyone. If I can't hex that person myself, I shouldn't order anyone to do it for me.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Harmless pranks aside.”

I rolled my eyes so much that my entire head moved. “Let's not ruin a perfectly civil conversation with that rubbish.”

“It's not rubbish!” Harry insisted. I'd swear that he nearly stamped his foot like a child.

“It is because freeing house elves will not change their nature,” I pointed out. “Even if we must pay them and fawn all over them, they will still punish themselves whenever they think they are doing something wrong. It's just how they are. Trying to take that from them would be like trying to take your foolish need to rescue everything away from you.”

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes so hard that his head followed. “Look, I'm just saying what I feel, so there's no need to argue. In any case,” he stopped looking at me to look at my mother with a fond smile again. “I was telling Draco earlier that I think that you and Mr. Malfoy should attend the Wizengamot session tomorrow – as concerned citizens. I think you might find it interesting.”

“Oh?” Mother asked with a slightly raised brow. 

“Yes,” Harry confirmed with a charming smile. “But as for right now, Draco promised that he'd come back to my place with me so that I could go over my notes and rehearse my speech.”

Mother returned his smile – albeit, far more cautiously. “Good luck tomorrow, Mr. Potter. As for this bond, we'll keep reading, but I fear that the book that might actually contain this bond in it seems to be missing for the moment. I don't recall seeing it specifically for many years, so it's possible that it was misplaced. I have the house elves looking for it.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied simply, taking a biscuit from the plate. He held it up as if saluting her, then turned to me. “Can you try to want me to Apparate? It'll just be easier all around. However, if not, I can message Hermione and have her adjust my wards so that we can use the floo.”

I looked up and gave this a bit of thought. Going to Harry's house where my parents won't be around to wonder exactly what we are doing sounded rather appealing. “I think you should be able to Apparate.” 

He stood up and held out his hand, which I took the moment I got to my feet. Sure enough, a moment later, he made us disappear and then reappear someplace I've never been before. It was a rather... cozy home. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating how small his bedroom is, because I think this is supposed to be his parlor, and it looked smaller than my bedroom. I nearly scratched my head as I wondered why anyone with access to two fortunes would voluntarily live somewhere with so little space. Doesn't he ever feel the need to be able to pace decently? Doesn't he ever just want to pick a direction and keep walking until he finds something he hasn't noticed in years?

I didn't intend to be an arse, but this little gem popped out of my mouth before I could stop myself: “This is seriously where you live? Is this your broom closet or a cupboard?”

Harry chuckled softly. “This is my living room, and I can assure you, I've lived in a cupboard until I was 11 and it was nowhere  _near_ this spacious!” 

Before I could respond to that – or even stop gaping at him incredulously – he walked toward the sound of some music playing, such as it was. I didn't recognize it, so it must be muggle.

To my surprise, Harry softly sang along. “ I've been waiting for so long, now I've finally found someone to stand by me –”

“Oh sure! _Now_ you show up!” Hermione grumbled unappreciatively. “I _just_ finished your planning meeting and sent everyone away.” 

Harry swept her into an impromptu dance. “You're the best!”

Then they both sang along with the muggle singers coming from somewhere. “Just remember, you're the one thing, I can't get enough of, so I'll tell you something, this could be love!”

Deep down, I knew that they were just friends, and that this song and dance really meant nothing other than them having a bit of fun, but they looked and sounded so good together that I couldn't help the sudden flash of jealousy I felt. It had the effect of making Harry let go of his best friend and fling his arms around me. Once again, he laughed.

“Miss me already?” He asked, his eyes twinkling merrily.

I sighed in frustration. “I didn't mean to – it just happened.”

“I think I would have been surprised if it hadn't. After all, you got jealous of an owl!”

“I am _not jealous_!” I roared as I pushed him away, only – once again – I couldn't actually let him go. So we were an arm's length away from each other, but joined by the hand.

He laughed again, and then reached out and ruffled my hair. “ _Right_ ...” 

I growled and narrowed my eyes at him, but still couldn't let go of his hand – which was obvious by the way I leaned back and tried to pull free. It was like our hands were glued together.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes at me. “Stop trying to deny things like this. I'm almost certain this bond won't be broken until you have what you want most. That means being honest about what you want.”

I flushed lightly, growled softly, and firmly looked away from him. “What I  _want_ is to tie you to a bed – I'm not particular about which one – and then keep you there for all the rest of eternity.”

He laughed. “Again? Already?!”

“Always,” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh!” Hermione gasped out in sudden understanding. “ _That_ bond!” She promptly attacked a pile of books on the table, digging one out before half slamming it down on the table and holding her hand out over it. The book flew open and ruffled through pages until it stopped somewhere a little more than two thirds through. “There are many names for this bond, and it's _ancient_! Basically, it's exactly what you said, Harry.”

Harry leaned over as much as he could with me basically being an anchor to keep him from getting too close. He tried to read the book, but even from here, I could tell that it wasn't written in English.

“What's it say?” Harry asked.

“Erm... deepest desire...” she mumbled to herself for almost two minutes, obviously reading rather rapidly. I couldn't help but be impressed. “It's disappointingly sparse. But as I understand it, it's a bond to help grant one's deepest desire, but it's a tricky bond to break because that can change. And it only truly serves the one whose desire is bigger at the time of bonding. So, for example, if you and I were bonded, Harry, and we both wanted different things – whichever of us wanted something more would be the, er... dominant partner. The other partner exists to lend magical and nonmagical help to fulfill the bond. But – as I said – let's say that my desire was stronger; that I wanted to pass this law. So we go before the Wizengamot and just as the law looks like it's going to be passed, I realize that what I really want is to be the Chief Mugwump or something. The bond will remain in effect until that is accomplished. _And then_ if I decide halfway through that I want to be the Minister for Magic, well...” she trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh, you're going to be the Minister for Magic and I'm not really going to be able to stop you, no matter how little I help,” Harry assured her, taking hold of her hand with his free one and kissing it.

Hermione snorted in amusement at that even as my jealousy flared without my consciously trying. Apparently, this had the effect of making Hermione's hand feel like it was burning to Harry, who flinched but held onto it as he gave me a mildly incredulous look.

“Really Draco?”

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” I exclaimed defensively.

“As much as I find it amusing just how jealous you are, you're just going to have to accept that Hermione is my best friend and I'm going to be touching her,” Harry stated firmly.

I sighed and closed my eyes, concentrating as much as possible on letting go of my irrational need to have him all to myself. For the moment anyway. I really don't think I could get rid of it altogether.

“Better,” Harry murmured approvingly when I assume Hermione's hand no longer burned him.

“So Malfoy, what exactly is it that you want most at the moment?” Hermione asked in a tone that suggested she considered this business as usual.

“Er...” I droned for a moment, wondering what to say since I couldn't exactly lie, but I also didn't want to admit to the truth. Doing that might well kill me! 

“Me,” Harry stated. “Which not only surprises me, but I actually rather like.”

“You?” Hermione questioned, humming in thought. “How so?”

“So far?” Harry returned with a shrug. “Mainly shagging.”

“ _Oh really_?” Hermione asked with definite amusement. 

Harry chuckled. “What can I say, it's been a while and I needed a brilliant shag.”

“That probably explains the new clothes – which look very good on you. I'm wondering if I should have you wear that tomorrow,” Hermione murmured, looking a bit far away all of a sudden. “Which reminds me, have you memorized your speech yet?”

“Mostly,” Harry replied. “I definitely need to practice it once or twice.”

Hermione cast a Tempus Charm. “Alright, so, seeing as how I managed to get your meeting over fairly quickly, we still have plenty of time. We may even get a decent night's sleep!”

“Well _you_ might,” Harry responded with a snort.

“You could always take a bit of Dreamless Sleep,” Hermione suggested with a soft frown.

“And risk getting addicted again? No thank you!” Harry scoffed, and the edge of derision was definitely there this time.

“You were addicted to Dreamless Sleep Potions?” I asked curiously, wondering what he could possibly have nightmares about. I mean sure, the war, but he won it. Surely the fates would let him rest in peace as a reward?

Harry heaved a heavy sigh. “I only ever sleep for a couple hours at a time before I give up and do something productive for a while. If I bake some biscuits or read a couple chapters of a book, I can usually get a few more hours of sleep before getting up for the day.”

“I might have to try that,” I murmured speculatively. I didn't have nightmares as often as I probably should, but I still woke up two or three times a week in a cold sweat and feeling panicked.

“You have nightmares?” Harry asked in concern.

I shrugged indifferently, as if it didn't matter either way.

Hermione giggled softly. “Maybe you can take to shagging every time you wake up. Maybe that'll help you sleep better.”

Harry boggled incredulously. “Merlin's deformed left testicle! If I shagged that much, I'd probably die!”

Hermione smirked. “Maybe, but I bet it would be worth it.”

Harry tilted his head to the side with an expression that suggested that he thought she had a fair point. I was understandably intrigued. 

“How much are we talking here?”

Harry laughed. “At least three or four times a night. And that's not including what I assume will probably happen before I even go to sleep the first time.”

I felt a sly smirk twist my lips. “I might be amenable to helping you out.”

“Ha!” Harry burst out with a grin. “I have a feeling that you'll be more than just amenable!”

Hermione smiled at us with an expression like she was watching two of her brothers make crude jokes. Then she pointed toward the side of the kitchen that had the refrigerator and a rack with numerous pots and pans hanging from it. “I'm hoping for steak and shrimp with broccoli.”

“That sounds good,” Harry agreed with a soft moan. 

Apparently him walking away from Hermione deactivated my jealousy because I was able to let him go rather than walk with him. To my surprise, he didn't simply call for his house elf. Instead, he started waving his wand around like a conductor, making food fly out of the fridge and land on the counter. Hermione watched me as I watched Harry, both of us wearing expressions of fascination – though mine was probably harder to read.

“So, Malfoy... What is it you really want?” She asked with a polite smile.

I shifted my gaze from Harry to her. Part of me wanted to tell her, but the rest of me didn't want to know what would happen if I answered that question honestly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Harry pause briefly in his task of squeezing a lime over a bowl of uncooked shrimp.

When the silence stretched out just a bit too long, she tried again. “Well, obviously Harry – since from everything he's told me and the little I've seen, you seem quite possessive of him – but I mean specifically. What is it you want from Harry?”

“If you know everything, why don't you tell me?” I asked with a sneer.

Silence returned as Harry sprinkled an herb over the shrimp, and then set the bowl aside with a cover, presumably to marinate. Just as he was arranging the steaks out on a platter, Hermione spoke again. Which irritated me almost as much as I was interested to hear her theories.

“I think you want to see him fail at something,” she murmured softly. “I think you want him to prove that he's no better than you are. You also just so happen to want to use him until he does so.”

“You think what?!” I asked in a mix of shock and horror.

I looked over to find that Harry was now watching me over his shoulder even as he seasoned the steaks with what looked like sea salt and a blend of spices. I felt far more defensive than I probably should.

“Is that what you think?” I demanded of him.

He shrugged. “I think it's a reasonable guess.”

His words made me feel like something literally stabbed me through the chest. Strangely, even though I was able to hide all traces of my pain, he wasn't. He gasped softly and pressed a hand to his chest. I looked away so that he couldn't see the distress in my eyes that I had unintentionally hurt him.

Hermione looked back and forth between us, a strangely sly expression taking over her face. “See? You want to hurt him and make him fail. You're probably hoping that he'll make a fool of himself before the Wizengamot tomorrow.”

“I do not!” I insisted far louder than I needed to. Then I realized that she was goading me, which I hadn't expected from a non-Slytherin. I turned my back on her, crossed my arms, and refused to say another word.

When Harry was finished preparing the steaks, he covered them as well and let them marinate for a while – which made sense since it couldn't have been more than two or so hours since we ate lunch. However, that was later than I normally ate lunch and we'd only eaten a couple of sandwiches, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was getting hungry again already.

He cast a silencing spell around him and Hermione, and then they proceeded to have a minor argument about something. Presumably me, since I wasn't included. I started to feel irrationally jealous again, but took deep and calming breaths to hold off the slowly growing urge to yank him over to me again, lock my arms around him, and never let him go.

When the weasel arrived, he inadvertently broke the silencing charm.

“I'm serious!” Harry cried out.

“No, _I'm_ serious!” Hermione countered.

The weasel ended their argument by grinning as he held out a sleek and rather fantastic looking broom. “I'm going to cherish this forever! Thanks again mate!”

I wondered if he had gone flying somewhere after the Polyjuice had worn off, but then my entire vision went dark as I watched Harry willingly go into Ron's arms for a brief hug and a mutual pat on the back. Before I could clamp down on my rampaging jealousy, Harry came flying back into my arms.

The same as most other times this had happened, he laughed. “I expected this to happen,” he murmured with a grin. “I could see you fighting the urge to do this while I was arguing with Hermione, and then when Ron appeared, I thought:  _yep, I'm about to be flung into Draco's arms again_ . And I was right!”

I looked away from all of them as much as I could and didn't say anything, but neither did I attempt to let Harry go.

“Ugh! It's rather disturbing to see you in the ferret's arms!” The weasel groaned.

Harry chuckled. “You should probably get used to seeing this because it's happening quite frequently so far. I'd suggest you close your eyes and cover your ears if you really are disgusted by this, because I'm about to kiss him.”

I looked over to see Ron look decidedly nauseous, but he didn't look away as suggested. True to his word, Harry kissed me. After a moment, he stroked my hair until – much like a cat I suppose – I felt better. Almost content.

“I can move again, so you must be feeling at least a little better,” Harry murmured, shifting so that there was about six inches of space between us. “Now can you try to ignore your jealousy when it comes to Ron? He's my other best friend and that is never going to change, which means that I'm going to be patting him on the back or hugging him, just as I occasionally kiss Hermione on the cheek or sweep her into a bad attempt at a dance.”

I considered this for a moment, then shook my head. “No. I'll do my best to not restrict your movements, but I am almost certain that I'm never going to like your weasel, so I'm not going to make a futile attempt at controlling that.”

“Alright,” Harry accepted with a nod. “Then try to let me go.”

“I don't want to,” I muttered in his ear.

He smirked at me. “That's good to hear, but I need to be going over my notes and preparing for our appointment tomorrow.”

I tried – or at least I think I tried – but I could not make myself let go of Harry. I just wanted him in my arms too much, and I don't think it really had anything to do with his friends triggering my jealousy. Even so, I pretended to be upset.

“It's not working!”

Harry sighed. “I can always wind you up until you push me away.”

I glared at him lightly. “It's not likely to work if I know you're doing it on purpose.”

“Oh I don't know; now would probably be the perfect time to finish that debate we were having on why house elves should be freed,” Harry remarked with a casually innocent tone.

Damn it, it worked. I pushed him away, my glare turning to a scowl. “No. I would rather suffer the Cruciatus Curse again than finish  _that_ debate.”

Harry grinned at me. “I thought so. Now I'm just going to go check on my marinades. Ron, could you please stand over there so that I don't go near enough to you to trigger Draco's jealousy again?”

“I'm not jealous!” I insisted petulantly.

Harry snorted in amusement at that. “You most certainly are, but don't worry, I find that I like it.”

“Am not,” I muttered as I looked away from him.

“Hmm...” Hermione hummed in thought. “This bond might be impossible to break if you won't admit to what you want or how you feel.”

I decided to give little Ms. Know-it-all a mental mind fuck. “And pray tell, exactly  _why_ would I want to break the bond when the bond is giving me what I want – which is Potter – and breaking it means that I won't have him anymore?”

Rather than respond, she gave me a look that one would normally associate with a Slytherin – a sort of smug and sly smirk. As if I had just confirmed her suspicions. Which I probably had. Damn!

“I knew it!” Harry burst out. “I noticed that every time I mentioned anything about breaking the bond, you'd fling us together and try to distract me. As I told you before, you can't lie to the bond, and therefore, I can slowly figure out what you're thinking and feeling. I bet I uncover whatever it is you won't admit to within a week and –” he stopped abruptly and cast a sleeping spell on me.

 

 

Harry's POV

I turned to look at my best friends. “He's probably going to want to murder me when he wakes up, but I reckon that we won't be able to talk about breaking the bond if he's awake.” Even as I said this, I cast a spell to catch Draco mid-fall, and then carried him to my bedroom and tucked him in my bed. Then I returned to the kitchen.

“What if you _can't_ break the bond?” Hermione asked with a frown of concern. “He seems to actually be telling the truth about not wanting it to break. And since the bond is literally designed to give him what he wants, if he doesn't want to break it...” she trailed off, trusting that I would understand what she was getting at.

I sighed rather deeply. “Aside from the inconvenience of getting thrown into him whenever he gets emotional and not being able to move until he feels better, I'm not really finding a downside to this bond. I know that might not make sense to you, but it's as I said, he can't lie to the bond. It works based on his genuine emotions. He can't fool the bond – even though he does try to fight it and continually denies it out loud. That means that he truly wants me.”

“I still say he just wants to make you fail at something and prove he's better than you,” Hermione stated. “Even when he does admit to what he's thinking or feeling, he seems primarily motivated by his own selfish ego. Thus...”

“I agree with 'Mione,” Ron added, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving her a kiss.

“Yeah, but you didn't see him during or after we were shagging,” I informed them, smirking at Ron because I knew that while he accepted the fact that I liked blokes just as much as I liked women, he didn't like Draco and probably never would. “He was more open and vulnerable. I truly believe that he actually wants me because he just _wants me_.”

“So... you think the bond will break when he gets tired of having you?” Hermione asked in a thoughtful tone.

I shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“But that means you're stuck with _Malfoy_ until he stops finding it fun to wind you up and torment you,” Ron pointed out. “He did that for five out of the six years that you went to Hogwarts and only stopped because he had to focus on other things or be killed by Voldemort. I really don't think he'll stop wanting to mess with you for a long time.”

I grinned. “See, that's the part that I'm actually looking forward to. Who else can I have a good fight with? And so long as the bond remains, I'll always be able to figure out what he's thinking by provoking him into reacting. I'll know when he's jealous and I'll know when he wants to shag me. It's surprisingly heady to know that he can't lie to me. I have the strangest urge to ask him all sorts of things just to see what he'll inadvertently trigger the bond to do.”

“Like what?” Ron asked with interest.

“Oh...” I drawled with a smirk. “Like if I see a good looking Quidditch player and ask aloud as if to myself what it would be like to snog him. Will Draco get jealous and the bond squash us together yet again? Will it trigger another Apparation directly to his bedroom? Will the Quidditch player suddenly find himself on his knees before us? I'll admit that last one's probably not likely, but it would be amusing if it happened. Although, maybe not for him!”

Ron squinted at me suspiciously. “So... you're saying that you actually sort of  _want_ to be bonded to the ferret?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I guess I do. I've thought about him a lot over the last two years – ever since Ginny and I broke up, and maybe a little before that. I wondered a lot what it would have been like if we'd stopped fighting and tried to be friends. Of course, I have eyes and could see that he's bloody gorgeous! So... yeah... When I realized that he wanted me as badly as he does, I took advantage of that and suggested that we basically try being in a relationship. If we work out, then even if the bond breaks, we'll still have each other. On the other hand, if we don't work out, then it might trigger the breaking.”

Ron heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Either way, it looks like we're going to have to get used to him being around.”

I grinned at my best mate. “Yeah, I reckon you do.”

 

Draco's POV

When I woke up, my first thought was that I was irate that Harry had cast a sleeping spell on me. My second thought was that there was something interesting going on in the region of my groin. My third thought was that I should open my eyes and look to see...

Harry swirling his tongue around the head of my shaft.

I groaned happily, thoroughly enjoying the feel.

“Oh good, you're awake,” Harry said with a bright grin aimed directly at me. He then shifted so that he was straddling me. I watched as he slowly sat down on my shaft, taking me fully inside him. This provoked another groan of sheer pleasure.

“Don't think this means I forgive you,” I warned him with a light glare.

He shrugged. “I'm going to occasionally need to do things – such as talk to my friends – without you. I mostly just wanted to test whether I  _could_ cast spells on you. I also needed to know because if you inadvertently cause trouble tomorrow, I am serious about casting an Imperius Curse on you. That said, I have hope that I can gain your cooperation by promising to do this again the moment we get back from the Ministry.”

“Exactly this?” I wondered, not opposed to the idea.

“Well, what else would you want?” Harry wondered even as he bounced and rode me, bracing his hands on my chest and opting for a steady but fairly leisurely pace.

“To tie you up and spank you for putting me to sleep just because I was, er... _pretending_ to be jealous of your weasel.”

He paused to look at me rather intently. “If you admit that you were completely jealous of Ron –  _and say his name_ – I'll agree to let you do exactly that.”

I groaned and mentally cursed him for having such Slytherin tendencies after all. On the one hand, I was serious about wanting to do that to him, but on the other, I didn't want to have to admit anything. So, I chose to remain silent. After a moment, he resumed riding me, but this time, he went a lot faster.

Shamefully, the fact that I had just woken up meant that I was too caught off guard to resist how incredible this felt. I was already so close to finishing and we'd just barely started! If I had my way, we'd be at this all night.

I reached out and grabbed hold of his shaft, which reminded me that I had hoped to give him another blowjob. Perhaps if he lasted longer than me, I'd be able to do just that. I stroked him, but mostly followed along with him as he bounced. Apparently it was enough though for he cried out so erotically that I gasped and promptly pumped him full as he squirted out pearly strings that decorated my chest.

He was purring a bit like a cat as he shifted to lay next to me. He rested his head on my shoulder and swirled a finger around one of my nipples. I found the action strangely soothing.

“I'm going to try to sleep,” Harry informed me. “But since you had a nap, feel free to get up and do as you like. I put your portion of dinner under a stasis spell, so it's ready for you if you get hungry. Ron and Hermione are spending the night in the guest bedroom, so if you want to explore my flat, stay out of there. Otherwise...” He trailed off and kissed me before murmuring sleepily and drifting off.

He was using me as a pillow, so I had to wonder how he thought I'd be able to get up. Not that I minded. I lay there and stroked his back and pressed kisses to his forehead. Eventually, I did need to get up as I could hear the loo calling my name and my stomach was telling me I was hungry after all.

Kissing Harry, I slipped out of bed and went to the loo before padding into his kitchen. Even empty and in the middle of the night, his kitchen felt warm and cozy. As promised, there was a plate of food on the table under a stasis charm. 

As I had watched him prepare it earlier, I knew that it was exactly what Hermione had asked for. Even so, I really wasn't prepared for the steak to be so tender and juicy. The shrimp was flavorful, but it was the broccoli that was the most surprising. It was steamed to the perfect balance between tender and crisp, then it was dripping in butter and seasoned so that each floret was bursting with flavor. Normally, broccoli was not my favorite vegetable, but at this moment, I would have been happy to eat nothing else. If I hadn't seen Harry prepare the food, I'd have never believed he could cook like this! 

After finishing my dinner, I wandered his flat, tactfully avoiding his snake habitat and eventually settling in his study/library to read a book that he must be in the middle of reading since the book was draped over the arm of an overstuffed chair. It was a muggle book about a woman – an Ambassador – who traveled the universe and solved problems via sex. Kinky sex. Interesting...

After not very long at all, the book had me in a state where I was seriously considering how much sleep Harry really needed anyway. I slipped back in bed with him to find that he was thrashing about and moaning in distress. Oh, right. Those nightmares he warned me about.

With a hand, I traveled a path up his back, across his side, around his muscular pectorals, and down his abdomen until I had a firm grasp on his shaft. He was naturally flaccid at the moment, but perked up with interest at my actions fairly quickly. His breathing went from mildly panicked to even, and then ragged with lust as I manipulated him into a fully erect state.

My mouth barely had time to get a good taste of him before he was erupting. I hummed as I swallowed it all, only releasing him when he whimpered from over-stimulation. Then I shifted and conjured up some oil to lubricate my shaft just before I pushed into him. He sighed happily and relaxed into his pillow. One of his hands trailed lazy paths across my back while his other cupped my arse.

I had the stamina to last quite a while, but eventually, I pumped him full. Then I lay on him, loving the way he simply relaxed and held me close. He wasn't exactly the most comfortable of pillows, but he was far and away better than any other pillow or bed – or bed partner – I'd ever had.

He hummed a soft chuckle. “If we keep shagging at this rate, we might actually die as I suggested. Did I mention that I'm quite looking forward to dying with you?”

My heart skipped a beat. That almost sounded like he was talking about... death do we part...  _Marriage_ ...

I firmly tamped down on my urge to squeal like a little girl and insist that we set a date for as soon as possible – such as tomorrow after his appointment with the Wizengamot. We were going to be at the Ministry anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone? 

No wait. This was Boy Wonder. Mr. Too Heroic for His Own Good. If he was talking about dying, he almost certainly meant while doing something stupid and crazy, such as playing Dodge the Killing Curse. Did he want us to go skydiving or something?

“Let's try _not_ dying for about a hundred years first,” I murmured dryly.

“Oh believe me, when I want to protect something – such as the world – it doesn't die unless someone manages to kill me so that I stay dead,” he informed me, and if I didn't know what he was talking about, I'd almost think he was joking.

“Go back to sleep,” I grumbled with a nearly petulant glare.

“If you insist,” he whispered with a soft yawn. Then he kissed me. “Stay right there for the rest of the night, if possible.”

“I'll try,” I promised against his neck as I settled down to see if I could sleep. As it turns out, I could.

In the morning, Hermione caused a loud bang that startled us both awake as she flung his bedroom door open. “I'm sorry to wake you Harry – especially since I suspect this is the most sleep you've gotten in ages – but your Alarm Charm has been going off for almost an hour and if you don't get up now, you won't have time for breakfast before we have to leave!” 

Not caring one iota that we were tangled up naked on the bed – the covers having completely disappeared at some point – she marched over to his closet and impatiently swept clothes laden hangers from side to side. “Where's that suit you promised you'd wear? Or should I cast cleaning charms on what you were wearing yesterday? Or wait! Were you planning to wear your formal robes?” 

She paused to glare at us as we watched her. I was too flustered by the fact that she was treating me like a best friend – like Harry – to actually say anything. Meanwhile, Harry seemed to be highly amused by her actions.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hermione demanded. “Get your arse in the shower! Ron's making bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast. If you aren't showered and dressed in the next 20 minutes, I'm going to drag you before the Wizengamot half naked and starving – I swear I will!”

Harry snorted a laugh. “You know, the fuddy old witches and wizards of the Wizengamot are probably the only people on the planet that wouldn't fall all over themselves to give me whatever I want if I appeared before them naked and begging.”

I couldn't help but moan at the mental images that conjured. My mind very quickly got carried away with fantasies that could result from that circumstance. I'm not sure what Harry saw on my face, but it made him chuckle sensually and caress my back.

“Do that in the shower if you must!” Hermione insisted snappishly. “But be quick about it! _Please Harry..._ ” The tone of sheer pleading in her voice half killed my mood. 

I sighed and sat up. “Come on, let's do what she wants before she decides to just cast dressing spells on us.”

“There are dressing spells?” Harry asked curiously as we both slipped from bed.

“Of course there are,” I stated with a frown. “Why wouldn't there be?”

“Why _would_ there be?” Harry countered as we walked toward the en suite bathroom.

“Well, when you're running late – for one. Or when you need to get dressed after having your hair and makeup done. Or when you're just being lazy,” I replied with a shrug.

Harry turned the shower on – fiddling with the nobs until it was the perfect temperature for him. It was a bit hot for my taste, but not unbearable. Then he surprised me by casting cleaning charms on both of us – including internal ones. After that, he pushed me up against the wall and attacked my neck with his mouth.

“She said we had 20 minutes to shower and dress, so now that I've taken care of the showering part, that gives us a little time before we have to get dressed,” he informed me as he cast a spell to prepare me and another to oil up his shaft.

When I realized that he was planning to top me, I took a deep breath and held it. Then I exhaled slowly and relaxed as much as I could. I've never bottomed before – not for lack of interest, just, well, the only person who had ever seriously wanted to top me was Blaise, but he was so hung that I didn't want him anywhere near my arse.

Harry pushed into me carefully, groaning in bliss. “So tight!”

I helped him shift me until my legs were wrapped around his waist and he was able to fully support me as we ground together. The best part was the hot kiss that went on forever. Harry groaned in profound relief as he pumped me full, which was a interesting feeling I looked forward to feeling again in the future. When he came down from the high, he kissed me once more, and then pulled out of me and dropped to his knees.

It didn't take much to get me off at that point, and I sincerely hope that Hermione had left his bedroom because otherwise she was getting an embarrassing earful. I cried out a loud and sinful cry as I pumped his fantastic mouth full.  _Fuck_ ! He deserved diamonds for that!

We were quiet as we dried off. To my relief, his bedroom was empty. A sharp black business suit lay on Harry's bed. As he hurriedly got dressed, I called for my personal house elf so that I could have her bring me a particular set of dress robes, which were black with dark green and silver accents.

Using charms to help out as needed, I had us both fully dressed before Hermione came back to murder us for taking so long. She sighed in relief, and then nodded her approval at our appearance. Then she cast charms over us to make absolutely certain that we couldn't get stained or wrinkled while eating breakfast.

Breakfast was mostly silent, and felt a bit like we were getting ready to attend a funeral. I could see the nervousness radiating off Hermione, and even Harry looked a bit jittery. The weasel kept looking back and forth between them and swallowing everything he wanted to say.

I have never been so happy to go to the Ministry in my life!

After we arrived, early but I had suspected that would be the case, the weasel and I were shockingly quiet and accepting of the fact that we were sitting together on a bench located directly behind the table provided for Harry and Hermione. A few other people had arrived already, but the hearing wasn't scheduled to start for at least another half and hour. Slowly but steadily, the room filled to overflowing.

Then the entire Wizengamot arrived. I could hear Harry clear his throat and tug on his collar. Hermione glared at him, but didn't say a word. He got the message anyway.

I glanced around the room realizing that it just now occurred to me to wonder what this hearing was about. To my wide-eyed surprise, my parents were sitting in the third row off to the right side of the room. Both looked magnificent – like purebloods in general and Malfoys especially should.

When called to order, Hermione was given the floor. “Witches and Wizards, we are here today to talk about the injustice of our honored Ministry. I have spent months digging through the laws and archives, and while I am impressed that the majority of our laws are just and fair, there are some that leave me feeling queasy. 

“It's no secret that I feel house elves deserve to be treated better, but what may not be as obvious, is that I _also_ think we need to rethink how we treat all creatures termed as having “near human” intelligence. It's the discrimination that we force on them that turn otherwise gentle beings into monsters. Take werewolves – for example – _yes_ there are a few that strike terror into even the bravest of hearts, but most of them are just ordinary people who want to live ordinary lives. They feel cursed by something that was done to them – the majority of the time against their will.”

She went on to talk about various other creatures, such as veelas – who were nearly indistinguishable from humans if one didn't notice their sheer beauty and seductive allure. She pointed out that while we held treaties with beings such as goblins, we still tended to treat them poorly, which kept them resentful and reluctant to help Wizarding kind when needed.

And then Harry stood up. “Not only do I agree with every word my dearest friend has said, but I feel the need to add to her list. We debated asking for a separate hearing for this, but ultimately decided that they belong together. The way we treat former Death Eaters and those who were acquitted of their war crimes is very close to the way we treat so-called inferior creatures. 

“Now I know that I either have or am about to offend everyone here, but shame on us all! We are supposed to be enlightened! To hear just about anyone talk, there is nothing better than being a witch or wizard. It is firmly and deeply believed that we are better than everything else – even muggles. I'm not for one moment suggesting that we are not. _However_ , if we are truly better, than why don't we act like it? 

“Rather than be petty and try to keep ourselves on a pedestal by forcing others down, why not prove that we are good and pure of heart by helping others? Give a desperate werewolf a job and let him support his family. Free house elves and let them serve their families with not just pride but full consent. Refrain from slinging literal and figurative mud at those who made mistakes during the war but are trying to be better.

“I propose that we enact this law that Hermione and I have spent months writing and refining so that we all – as an enlightened people – put our best foot forward; we prove that we are truly good; we genuinely care for and fully support those that we currently treat badly.”

Hermione took over again, going through each part of the law she had written and how it would work. Why it would work. Why it was necessary. But I didn't hear a word she said because I was too busy staring at Harry with a blank expression that may as well have been an open mouth gape for how obvious it was that I was quite taken aback by the fact that he wanted people to treat former Death Eaters... Me...  _My father_ ! With respect.

While I was still staring at Harry, the floor was handed back to the Wizengamot, who debated back and forth the merits and downsides to the proposed law. Each time an objection was raised, either Harry or Hermione – and sometimes both of them – would calmly and capably explain why the objection was not a valid reason to deny people equal rights and respect.

Their arguments relied heavily on the fact that people who are secure in their inherent goodness do not need to repress anyone. This was so ludicrously Gryffindor that I was certain they'd be laughed out of the Ministry. However, they  _also_ had a lot of facts and interesting tidbits to support their position. After several hours, it started to look like they might actually win. And then a vote was called for.

The Wizengamot was clearly divided, but as they cast their vote, just enough of those who were on the fence decided to support their most important war heroes. This resulted in getting the slim majority necessary to pass the law. Harry and Hermione were so elated that they threw their arms around each other and jumped for joy.

I honestly thought this would trigger my jealousy. I waited a few seconds with a feeling of resignation that Harry was about to be thrown into my arms in public. Not just in public, but in front of nearly every reporter in existence. Only he wasn't. I frowned and looked at my hands until I realized something important.

I wasn't jealous! Seeing Harry so happy was filling me with a warmth I couldn't quite put a name on. It was a beautiful feeling that even had me smiling faintly as I watched them cheer and wave to their supporters in the crowd.

And then it hit me that he had just passed a law that was designed – in part – to ensure that my parents and I were allowed to walk in public with our heads held high without being molested, hexed, or cursed. My mind was blown all over again, even as I didn't actually hold out much hope that anything would change.

Salazar help me! I'm arse over tits in love with a man who was the epitome of a bleeding heart Gryffindor! If us shagging every time one of us has a nightmare doesn't kill us, just being around him and putting up with his seemingly infinite capacity to forgive and accept and  _love_ will. Or at least, it'll probably kill me. He'd probably survive just the same way he's survived everything thrown at him so far.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if they were going to hold the celebratory party right here in the hearing room, Harry beckoned me to follow him, Hermione, and the weasel out through a side door reserved for the prosecution, defense, criminals, and other officials who weren't members of the Wizengamot to enter and exit and avoid the public crowds and reporters. But that didn't mean we went straight home, as I was hoping. There was definitely a party which was not so shockingly dominated by Gryffindors.

I sat in a corner and put up with it all simply because watching Harry be happy was seemingly now my new drug of choice and I was already addicted.

 

***

 

Just one short week later, I felt like I was floating on a cloud of bliss and I made my way to the kitchen of Harry's flat. He had spent every spare moment with me. I watched him when he was busy – and he was a shockingly busy man! He had meetings more frequently than even my father at his most determined to get things done stage.

Anyway, I'd forgotten that it was Saturday and Harry traditionally had breakfast with his best friends on Saturday morning. Thankfully, I was wearing pajama bottoms that I'd thrown on only because I was slightly chilly, plus they were silk and felt better than sitting on his wooden chairs while naked. Hermione gave me a friendly enough smile, but the weasel glared at me.

I looked over to find Harry busy cooking, which meant he missed the glare. It also meant that he wouldn't see me return the glare. The weasel and I had an entire battle with just our eyes alone before Hermione laughed softly and shook her head. She even had the audacity to roll her eyes at us!

“Harry,” the the weasel began the moment breakfast was ready and we were all sitting down to enjoy it. “It's been a week, and you said that it would probably only take you a week to figure out what the ferret wants that will break the bond.”

Harry shrugged. “And I think I have.”

This surprised me, making me nearly gape at him. I think my eyes even bulged before I was able to control them and smooth out my expression. I then pretended like I was so interested in my food that I wasn't paying them any attention.

“Well don't keep me in suspense!”

Harry smiled softly. “Ron, I'd tell you but I think it would put you off your feed.”

The weasel surveyed his food for a moment, and then shrugged. “Whatever it is can't possibly be  _that_ bad.” As if to prove this, he shoved a sausage in his mouth.

“I'm not sure Harry _should_ tell us,” Hermione interjected. “The point of the bond – or at least part of it – is to get Malfoy to admit to what he wants. I don't think that Harry telling us would help.”

Her husband squinted at her suspiciously. “You figured it out too, didn't you.”

She shrugged. “I think so, but I won't know for sure until I'm proven right. Or wrong.”

The weasel finished chewing and swallowed as he inspected his next bite. To my surprise, he put it back on his plate. “Alright, if it's bad enough to kill my appetite, then it has to be something like tying Harry to his bed and never letting him be seen by anyone ever again.”

Harry snorted in amusement. “That could be fun – especially since I'd then have an indisputable excuse to get out of all my endless meetings.”

“Or maybe he wants to chain you to a wall and abuse you until you beg him for mercy about a hundred times.”

I sat up a bit straighter and smirked at that. “Now  _that_ sounds like fun!”

Harry laughed. “If that was really what he wanted, Ron, then it would have happened already. There's almost no way that he could have stopped it when he gets all jealous and possessive.”

I gave Harry a light glare. There was no need for him to spoil all my fun. Then I wondered if telling the actual truth really  _would_ put the weasel off his feed. So I shifted my attention back to the loathsome ginger and gave him an intense and mildly evil stare.

“What I want is so much worse than that, weasel. I want Harry to marry me and have my babies.” I was about 95 percent sure that I said that in a tone that would be interpreted as just winding him up, but the least important member of the Golden Trio went bug-eyed before snapping his attention to Harry so fast that I think his neck hurt.

“Harry!”

At the exact same time, Harry burst out with: “I knew it!”

“What?” I asked him in dismay. “You don't think I'm being serious, do you?”

“Yes,” Harry stated with a smug grin. He held up his right hand. “I suspected when I tried to give this back to you and it wouldn't come off.” I looked at my family signet still firmly encircling his finger, and then looked away. “But it wasn't until I saw you looking at a wizard in Diagon Alley walking with his little girl on his shoulders that I realized that you _wanted_ that. Then it sort of fell into place.”

I pressed my lips together and bit them both as I tried to decide how to respond. Yes, I had been telling the truth, but I didn't feel like I could admit it. 

“It really was the only thing that made sense,” Hermione added in a murmur. “You actually said it yourself when you said that you didn't want the bond to break because then you wouldn't have Harry, which meant that the only bonds you'd consider replacing this one with are the bonds of matrimony and family.

_Damn it!_ How are these two non-Slytherins able to read my mind so clearly?!

The weasel let out a long suffering sigh. “Alright, fine. So I just have to accept that there's no getting rid of the ferr – er... Malfoy, even if the bond breaks. So... When's the wedding going to be?”

Harry grinned, which I noticed out of the corner of my eye since I still wasn't looking at anyone. “Oh... I'm sure it could be arranged for about an hour from now if we sent an owl to Kingsley.”

I gasped in astonishment. “What?! But! But!” I spluttered, bug-eyed myself now.

“But what? It's what we both want, isn't it?” Harry asked with a slight frown of concern.

I had to conjure up a bag and breathe into it for almost a minute before I could stop panicking and calm down. Yes, it was a muggle technique, but it worked, so... Taking a deep breath, I swallowed my nervousness and looked Harry in the eye.

“Yes, it's what I want, except I want more than that,” I admitted.

He took hold of my hand and gave me a gentle smile. “Oh? And what more do you want?”

“I want all of it,” I told him. “I want to announce our engagement in the Daily Prophet, and then I want to shop for wedding bands together. I want to invite the entire world and argue with my mother on how to decorate the garden for the ceremony. I want to see the look on my father's face as he watches us pledge to be together for the rest of our lives. I want to glare at reporters when they insist that we should answer invasive questions and I want to throw a party to celebrate our wedding that lasts at least three days. I want to write cryptic vows and see you wearing something I pick out that makes you look your absolute best.” I stopped with a shrug, and then added: “As I said, I want it all.”

Harry was giving me a look that was hard to interpret, but I think it was mostly impressed and intrigued. He raised a brow. “Cryptic vows?”

“Well I can't just say anything. It has to be something worthy of a Slytherin while avoiding even the slightest hint of Hufflepuff foolishness,” I pointed out with a look that clearly stated he should have known that already.

“Or in other words, he can't admit he's in love,” the weasel muttered in amusement, making me glare at him again.

“Alright,” Harry murmured bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it. “I think I can agree to all of that but the vows. I want my vows to be clear and not cryptic at all.”

“Such a Gryffindor,” I grumbled, and then purposely heaved a put upon sigh. “Fine, if you must...”

He chuckled. “I think Ron had an excellent question you need to answer. When exactly are we doing this?”

I looked up and hummed softly as I thought this over. I couldn't help but smile as I thought of the perfect answer. “July third.”

“That's about a month and a half from now,” Harry murmured softly. “Any particular reason you want that day?”

“Hmm...” I hummed with an impish grin. “Maybe I should make you figure that out.

Hermione frowned for a moment before inhaling a soft gasp. Harry held up a hand and scrunched his face up in thought. He muttered out loud as he worked it through. 

“July... my birthday is at the end of July, but I don't think it's that because then you'd pick a date closer to my birthday, or the 13th – which is the reverse numbers, so, hmm... Well, let me see if I can remember anything about you on that day. It's not _your_ birthday, which is June 5 th. It's not – er wait! June 5th... July 31st... Ah, it's exactly between the two.”

“I didn't think you'd figure it out so quickly,” I murmured in surprise.

Harry smirked at me as he summoned some parchment and a quill. “So... Is it alright if I just write a quick note to the Daily Prophet, or are you going to insist on a long and fussy letter?”

I couldn't help but smile at how eager he was being. “Well, technically, it's supposed to be written by my mother or father.”

He sighed a bit heavily. “Well, then I guess we're making a visit to the Manor today.”

I frowned at him suspiciously. “You... You're just trying to break the bond, aren't you?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn't marry anyone just to break a bond. Or at least I'm pretty sure I wouldn't. I promised myself that if I ever got married, I was only going to do it once. That's why I didn't try getting married to Ginny when we both thought it was the thing to do. I suspected that it wasn't going to work out and we both agreed that we felt more like brother and sister than lovers, so,” he shrugged.

Ron chuckled. “Plus, while you do like to date both birds and blokes, you seem more attracted to arse than fanny, so that probably worked against any plans to marry my sister.”

Harry tilted his head to the side as he nodded. “That's probably true.”

“I really didn't expect you to agree at all...” I murmured softly, focusing on the tea I wasn't actually drinking but was cradled in my hand that wasn't holding Harry's.

Harry jostled my hand insistently. “Listen, I'm about to go bravely confront your father and insist that he write that note you want to the Daily Prophet. If that doesn't prove I'm serious, then I'm pretty sure nothing will.”

I chuckled softly. “You might be right about that.”

 

Harry's POV

I followed Lucius Malfoy into his study. The two of us were alone at his request, although both Draco and Narcissa had pointedly reminded him that if he harmed me, there would be no place on Earth he could hide. I couldn't help but feel touched by that.

Lucius poured us both a fancy and likely insanely expensive drink, and then politely waited as I cast detection spells over it. I didn't trust him a single iota, but I also though I might need the alcohol. Wasting it with a spell that allowed me to pretend to drink it but actually vanished it from my mouth seemed counter productive at the moment.

Satisfied that it was clean, I took a swig and appreciated the smooth feel of it in my mouth. Lucius apparently needed a bit of alcohol to steady his nerves as well because he down a good half his glass before gesturing for me to sit in a plush chair facing a small but cozy fireplace. He took the seat next to mine – which was separated by a task table, but also faced the fire.

Finally, he spoke. “Mr. Potter, can you promise me that you have only the best of intentions regarding my son?”

“Er...” I trailed off with a blush.

This actually seemed to amuse him. “Aside from that.”

Surprised to find myself chuckling at something coming from that normally vicious mouth, I decided to answer him honestly.

“Well, it's like this. I want to marry your son and he wants to marry me. I have every intention of being a good husband and doing whatever it takes to make this marriage work. He wants me to have his children and I find the idea strangely appealing. That said, I can't promise to never fight with him. Both of us have explosive tempers when we're upset, and we also have a tendency to be stubborn arses. I fully expect there to be more than our fair share of arguments. If you can call all of that the best of intentions, then yes. I do.”

He didn't look at me, but he was wearing a soft smile. “I suspect all of that is exactly what my son needs in order to be happy. I'll give the two of you my blessings and write up the announcement for the paper under one condition.”

“Er... What's that, Mr. Malfoy?” I asked as respectfully as I could even though I was anxious that he was about to demand something absurd that I just couldn't give him.

“As much as it grieves me, you and are are about to become family. For the sake of my son, I think we should make an effort to put the past behind us and at least attempt to be civil to one another. Along that line, I ask only that you call me Lucius and allow me to call you Harry. We don't have to pretend to like each other, and I don't expect we'll ever be fond but... I've raised Draco to believe that family is sacred. We do anything for each other. Even...”

“Even welcome a one time enemy as a future son in law,” I finished for him. Then I gave him a small but genuine smile. “That's actually one of the things I've always admired about your family... Lucius.” I then held out a hand for him to shake if he wanted.

He took my hand but didn't exactly shake it at first. “I pray you keep in mind that I will do anything for my son, even murder you if you hurt him,  _Harry_ ,” he said as he stared intently into my eyes.

“It was you,” I blurted out in sudden clarity.

I could see him scrambling to control his expression as he dropped my hand. “I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

I snorted a laugh. “Actually, I don't care if you ever admit it – and you're too much like your son to do so – but I figured it out. No wonder you never even bothered to file a missing person report. You somehow figured out that Draco wanted me more than anything and you did what you thought you had to in order to give him what he wanted. Does Narcissa know this?”

Lucius stroked his chin and gave me a long and considering look before answering. “No... I needed her to be believably frantic if you came here to confirm my letter, and I also needed her to be genuinely relieved when you rescued our son so that she wouldn't question my signing over everything or 'accidentally' provoking the Greengrasses into terminating the marriage contract.”

“So... you _actually_ planned to give me your entire fortune as a reward for rescuing your son from fake harm?” I asked, a bit incredulous over that.

He shrugged. “Well, I knew that Draco was going to be bonded to you for the rest of his life – unless he decided he no longer wanted you. Therefore, he would be taken care of.”

I was more impressed than I wanted to admit, and part of me mentally kicked myself for not taking some of his money after all –  _not_ out of selfishness or greed, but so that I could hire someone to take over my job of running charities and planning fundraisers. Or at the very least, assist me – freeing up both Hermione and me. Then I cast those thoughts aside.

“Alright, I'll tell you what, if you promise never to 'help' us like that again, I'll promise to never tell Draco or Narcissa what you did,” I proposed.

“Not _that_ is a deal I can get behind,” Lucius replied with another faint smile. This time, we shook hands for real.

“Well, Harry, perhaps it's time you reassured my son that I haven't murdered you after all.”

I stood up and nodded my head. “Oh, and Lucius?”

He looked up at me curiously.

“Thank you. I would have never known how Draco felt about me, and also, I would probably have never gathered up the courage to take a chance and ask him out. So really, you've done me a big favor,” I informed him.

“So... it's not just an attempt to break the bond?” He asked with a cautious expression.

I shook my head. “I wouldn't call it love yet, but I honestly can't think of anyone else I want to spend my life with.”

“Well... then... You're welcome...”

With a slight nod of genuine respect, I left the study.

 

Lucius' POV

As I crafted the perfect announcement for the Daily Prophet, I thought about my conversation with... Harry... As much as I hate to admit it, I am going to have to get used to thinking of him as something more than that Potter brat my Lord wanted to destroy. 

Maybe one day I'll tell him that I'm relieved he defeated the man who nearly destroyed my family. Who knows? Maybe I'll get blind drunk and even thank him for it.

In the meantime, it will be my pleasure to sit back and watch as Draco plans his wedding. Already I can see a clear difference in him. Before, he was just going along with everything we planned for him, but now... 

Now he's taking an active part in the planning and there's a light in his eyes I don't recall ever seeing before. In the five or so minutes between him announcing his engagement and Harry coming in here for our little chat, Draco had already spouted enough suggestions to plan three weddings. I watched my wife hide her surprise at how eager he was, and then slowly smile from sheer joy as she made suggestions of her own.

There was a soft knock on the door followed by my beautiful wife entering the room. She smiled at me as she gracefully walked to the chair I was sitting in. Then she sat in my lap in an intimate way we hadn't truly been in the mood for since before, well, the Dark Lord's resurrection.

“Seeing our son so obviously in love and very nearly glowing from happiness makes me think that we haven't failed as parents after all,” she murmured softly in my ear, then added this little tidbit that nearly stopped my heart. “It makes me think we should take a risk and have another.”

“At our age?!” I spluttered.

She laughed softly. “Why not? We're only in our fifties. We still have many years ahead of us.”

“But _why_?” I wondered in mild desperation.

She kissed me softly, something which I still very much enjoyed, even after all these years. “Because I want to know what it's like to raise a child now that the world is a better place.”

“Are you certain?” I asked with a light sigh of defeat.

“I am,” she confirmed in a confident voice.

“Alright,” I capitulated. “Let me finish writing this announcement while you go take a fertility potion to counter the birth control potion, and then I'll join you in our bedroom.”

She giggled softly. “I wonder if it would scandalize our son to know that we're about to go do exactly as he dragged his fiancé off to do about ten minutes ago now.”

I chuckled in response to that. “I think I'll pay close attention to the look on his face when we eventually tell him we're having another baby.”

We both laughed as we pictured his future look of barely concealed disgust. Then Narcissa kissed me again and left to go do as suggested. It should be noted that I finished that announcement in record time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was totally going to write the big ass lovey dovey wedding, but it just didn't quite seem to fit. So I am probably going to save that for later and make it a sequel :-)


End file.
